


From Mirkwood with Love

by Kundze_Melna



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-02-25 06:41:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 34,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2612093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kundze_Melna/pseuds/Kundze_Melna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on what would bring Kili and Tauriel together and keep them together. Series of interconnected one-shots, some longer than others. 'DoS'-compliant. Most probably AU after that as I really don't like the idea of Kili dying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tauriel and the Prisoner of Mirkwood

Tauriel has lived in Mirkwood for six hundred years and will live here for six hundred more.

And then another six hundred.

And then another.

It can go on for a long time.

Immortality isn’t as fun as people think when one does the same things day after day, year after year.

Every day Tauriel braids her hair, puts on her uniform and guards the vast lands of Thranduil from both good and evil outside, for the Lord of Mirkwood wishes to see neither of them anywhere near his residence. In fact, she had been so good at guarding that a few decades ago she was promoted to head of border guards. An impressive achievement for someone so young and of lowly Silvan descent, and yet the taste of it wears thin eventually. 

So does her love of all things elven. Sure, their music is sophisticated and beautiful, the wine is sweet and inebriates well, the feasts are full of poetry and light and polite conversations about the First Age and Tauriel likes all those. But she also can’t help but wonder what these things are like outside Mirkwood. Probably neither worse nor better, just different, but it is the possibility of experiencing something unknown that’s keeping her up on some nights and making her dream of things she’s never actually seen on others.

The world beyond Mirkwood must be _huge_.

Tauriel sneaks out sometimes, travels a few miles beyond the borders, but she can never go very far for she must be back in time for her duties.

Elves do not really have a concept of vacation, not Silvan elves anyway, so they do not travel unless they get to accompany the royalty of Mirkwood on one of their journeys to visit kin. But Tauriel never gets picked out for these and she has a pretty good idea as to why. The Prince has been showing her a lot of attention and his stuck up father probably has a lot of objections to them interacting beyond border patrols. Tauriel is convinced that one day she is going to be called aside and told in a language not too delicate to remember her place.

Honestly, Legolas’ affection is sweet but rather inconvenient.

He is not bad, per se, but Tauriel doesn’t think she could have had feelings for him even if he weren’t royalty. He is a little too rigid, a bit too composed and somber. Once she laughed in his presence because come on, that baby fox chasing its own tale _was_ really cute, and Legolas looked at her like she licked her fingers at a royal reception. Tauriel doesn’t need a man to be bored with, she can be bored all by herself.

Sometimes she wonders if maybe she descended from humans. A bit of mortal blood would at least explain her attitude and her desires. But then elves hardly ever marry outside their own kind…

Today she is on a forest patrol. The giant spiders have been coming more and more often and in greater numbers. This is not a good sign. There are too many of them and they must be bothering the surrounding lands a lot but Thranduil would not hear of helping neighbours. Tauriel has asked him enough times to know that but she keeps trying.

“Watch out,” she warns the fellow guards as they jump silently from one tree branch to another. “Something is different today.”

And different it is indeed. There are dwarves in the forest.

Yes, dwarves. Tauriel hasn’t encountered them for a while but they are difficult to confuse with anyone else. Long beards, lots of tiny braids, short stocky figures… And loud. They are always loud. 

Elves have them surrounded in no time. Tauriel watches her people closing in from above and makes a mental note of areas to work on, of things to improve.

The dwarves have been searched and have got their portion of insults from Legolas (Tauriel frowns at that because is there really a need to be rude?) when another creature reveals itself, screaming and kicking for its life. She spares a second to assess the would-be prey of a foul monster.

Another dwarf, just like she though. Young though, by the looks of it. Probably not particularly experienced in combat. That figures.

A moment later Tauriel is down on the forest floor, shooting some spiders and sticking her dagger into the gobs of others.

“Throw me a dagger!” the dwarf demands, clearly uncomfortable in the face of a giant spider approaching him, “Quick!”

Fool. Tauriel will not arm a prospective prisoner, she kills the spider instead. The dwarf looks positively gobsmacked. Well, Tauriel’s fighting skills tend to have that effect on strangers.

_Yes, yes_ , she wants to say, _you have you ass saved by a girl. Deal with it._

***

When elves have to escort the prisoners to their respective cells Tauriel ends up taking care of the one she rescued.

“Aren’t you going to search me?” he asks, looking at her with a great deal of petulance. “I could have anything down my trousers.”

Tauriel is about to retort that if he were indeed armed with a weapon he would not have asked her for a dagger back in the forest. But then it hits her – the dwarf is implying something very very different.

Make no mistake, she can play this game, too.

“Or nothing,” she says, making sure to match his tone. Then she closes the door with a loud clank but lingers in front of the cell just long enough to say “I win” with her eyes.

“Why does the dwarf stare at you, Tauriel?”

The question catches her as she is about to leave. 

Tauriel smirks. Ah, so he does. In fact, he must be _really_ staring if Legolas noticed.

Serves the dwarf right. Maybe it will teach him not to speak of indecencies to women he barely knows.

“Who can say,” she tries to sound indifferent. “He is rather tall for a dwarf, don’t you think?”

The Prince is not happy. “Taller than some,” he concedes grudgingly, as Tauriel walks away, “but no less ugly!”

_My, my_ , she thinks on the way to her chamber, _aren’t we jealous?_

***

She returns to chat to the dwarf later that evening. She wasn’t going to, not initially, but a heart to heart with Thranduil can be quite life-altering. Tauriel really can’t bear to look at the King for the time-being. The sight of him makes her blood boil with something elves aren’t supposed to feel: cold rage.

Oh well, the feast of starlight is not that much fun anyway. Not after nearly six hundred years.

The prisoner is.

***

She comes to talk to the dwarf again. _No reason, just boredom_ , she tells herself this time.

He has a lot of good stories for her. 

She always wants to hear more.

***

“You shouldn’t come so often,” the prisoner tells Tauriel when she settles on the steps in front of his cell for what must be the tenths time, “or your Prince will think you fancy me.”

“That,” she replies, “would be most unlikely, although not entirely impossible.”

“Why, really?” he sounds curious. “Have elves ever mixed with someone of a different blood?”

Tauriel has to think hard about that.

“Well, not often, but there’s been Beren and Luthien…”

 The dwarf nods in recognition.

“… and a few centuries ago, just after I was born, there was a rumour that some Imladris maiden married a halfling… Although I don’t know what a halfling is,” she admits. “But they sound short.” 

“It’s a hobbit,” her prisoner offers most helpfully. “They look pretty much like humans but they are indeed much shorter, hence the name. Oh, and they have hairy feet and never wear boots. And live in holes underground. Very decent holes, mind you. Good folks, really. Nice and quiet, don’t like adventures much, although there are some exceptions.”

“Are they…” Tauriel is looking for a way to ask the question without being offensive, “how short are they?”

“Shorter than dwarves. By about that much.” He indicates a good few inches. “They must have been a funny couple, that elf-maid and the hobbit.”

Tauriel doesn’t quite agree. “I don’t think height mattered much,” she says. “If they truly loved each other, that is.”

“Yeah, like Beren and Luthien.”

She pauses, unsure of whether to ruin the apparently greatest love story ever told or not. But then this guy seems to get her quite well, maybe he’ll get her point, too. So she admits in a quiet whisper, like it’s a big secret. “Actually, I have a problem with Beren and Luthien.”

The prisoner seems shocked. “Why? _They_ were of similar height.”

“Love is not about height! Forget the height! Listen, if they loved each other so much, if Luthien loved Beren so much… Why did she need her father’s permission to marry him? Why didn’t she defy her father when he came up with an impossible task?”

“Well, I don’t know. Maybe because it’s a legend, the way it is being told nowadays anyway, and it needed some heroic stuff to catch people’s attention?” the dwarf muses. “Two lovers who couldn’t be together unless they achieved something grand… that sounds like legend material. Maybe in reality Luthien’s father just said ok, marry her, be my son, welcome to the family… But no one wants to go on about that for centuries, right? It might have been fun for them but it’s regular and boring to the rest of the world.”

That is a fairly good point, Tauriel has to agree.

“Do you think this is what actually happened?”

The prisoner shrugs his shoulders. “Hard to tell. You are the elf here. What would your father say if you came and told him you’d like to marry, say, a dwarf?”

“Nothing,” he raises a quizzical eyebrow, rightly refusing to believe that what she says is true and Tauriel has to explain. “He is gone. Both my parents are gone.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

She cuts him off. “It’s ok. You didn’t know. And your mother? What would she say if you decided to marry outside your kind?”

“She wouldn’t _say_ anything,” the dwarf smiles. “But she would break all her plates over my head. Why? Are you interested?” He gives her an exaggerated wink.

Tauriel can’t help but smile, too. “No, not really.”

“Damn!”

“It’s for the best,” she tells him.

“True that,” he teases, as always. “My mother has _a lot_ of dishes.”

Tauriel laughs at that and she doesn’t understand why she wants to laugh.

She doesn’t understand why conversations between them are so easy. They shouldn’t be because she is an elf while he is a dwarf and she is a guard while he is a prisoner and they are meant to have nothing in common.

Yet they do. And it feels right.

Tauriel wonders is _this_ is how Beren and Luthien came to be.

***

The stories her prisoner tells sound almost unbelievable.

Ok, Tauriel is not buying it, there’s no way he and the other dwarves flew on eagles.

Just. No. Way.

“It is true,” he insists. “If you don’t believe me you can always ask my friends.”

With that Tauriel realises that she has never ever talked to any of the other prisoners.

“So you say you rode the great eagles?” she asks, not willing to think about why she singles this particular dwarf out.

“Yes.”

“And you tell me you met a man who is also a bear?”

“Yes.”

“And you saw trolls turning to stone?”

“Just like I see you now.”

“How old are you?” Tauriel blurts out.

The dwarf looks a little surprised by her question, like he had no reason to expect it. “Turned seventy seven a few months ago. Why?”

That is not fair. She is eight times his senior and she’s seen… _nothing_!

She leans closer to the bars and the dwarf rises to his feet. Their faces are a few inches apart and Tauriel whispers in a tone dark and desperate. It’s a secret, only he can know. “I am sick of here. I want freedom. I want to fly eagles. I am over six hundred years old and I’ve been doing the same things over and over for centuries!”

He stares back at her, his expression undistinguishable.

Tauriel would swear she can feel the blush covering her cheeks. _He_ is the one locked behind bars and yet _she_ complains about not having enough freedom. This was the most inappropriate confession of all.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters quietly, not looking the prisoner in the eye. “I am talking a lot of rubbish…”

He cuts her off. “No, you don’t.”

Tauriel stares back in shock.

“I know the feeling,” says the dwarf. “And I had to work very hard to come on this quest. There’s no crime in wanting to see the world.”

Tauriel is silent, but she does not move away.

“What’s your name?” the prisoner asks.

She is a little surprised at the question but answers nevertheless. There’s no harm in answering.

“It’s beautiful,” says the dwarf. “Does it mean anything?”

“Daughter of the forest.”

“That figures. I’m Kili.”

“Does _your_ name mean anything?” Tauriel parrots.

“Why, yes, it stands for “he who will be stuck in an elven prison with a beautiful elf-girl”. As you can see my mother chose very well.”

She rolls her eyes at that but not in a bad way. This guy isn’t afraid of being funny or silly and Tauriel finds it quite refreshing.

“Nah, I’m only kidding you,” Kili says. “Our names don’t have meanings like yours do. Probably a good thing because I doubt they would sound nearly as poetic as yours.”

Now Tauriel is curious.

“Are you sure? How would I say “daughter of the forest” in your language?”

“You might not be happy with me if I answer,” Kili warns her.

“I dare you.”

He humours her and says something that sounds like he is telling Tauriel to go do naughty things to herself. Very dirty naughty things, that is. She bursts into giggles. “Next time I will listen to you,” she promises. 

Kili shakes his head. “There will not be a next time.” He appears somewhat sad.

She wonders what he meant by that but doesn’t dare to ask.

***

“I’ve been thinking about Beren and Luthien,” Legolas says one day as they practice archery together.

“Have you? What a coincidence.” Tauriel actually suspects he’s been eavesdropping on her conversations but she isn’t going to call him out on it, not yet.

“Yes. I don’t know why everyone is so fond of that story. Luthien was foolish.” 

Tauriel narrows her eyes a little more than hitting the target requires.

“Is that so?” her tone is dangerous.

“Yes,” the Prince speaks with conviction. “She threw her life away for a mortal. This is not how one should treat the gift of immortality. They were together for a few short years. And then what?” 

Ok, now she is pissed off.

“They were _happy_ together for those few short years!” she retorts. “Luthien was happy! Happier than she would have ever been if she had lived till the end of time but without her loved one!”

“Pfft, you really think so, don’t you?” Legolas seems… disappointed. “I bet she was only happy in the legend. I bet in reality she deeply regretted her choice and her sacrifice. This is just how life works.”

Tauriel glares at him, hands on her hips and malice in her voice. “And what, if I may ask, do you know about life?”

“More than you think, Tauriel,” the Prince replies calmly. “A lot more than you think.”

***

Kili turns out to be right, there is indeed no next time.

The dwarves escape somehow and end up in big barrels floating down the stream towards Esgaroth. The guards naturally stop them by closing the portcullis but then orcs arrive and hell breaks loose. 

Tauriel doesn’t think twice about saving the dwarf. Her body moves on its own when it shoots two consecutive arrows. The big ugly orc is dead before it hits the ground and Tauriel is back to fighting other vile deformed monsters that seem to pour out of nowhere.

A groan of pain reaches her ears and she turns around because the voice is familiar. It is her prisoner, floating away in a barrel. For a second Tauriel is unsure of what to do, whether to stop him or let him have his freedom, and one of the orcs uses her hesitation to launch an attack. It does not go well for him, for Tauriel is a skilled fighter with many years of practice and a quick reaction. She throws the orc off the bridge in what would seem like an effortless, smooth motion to most observers but deep down she knows that she got distracted by the dwarf and it could have cost her dearly.

She spares Kili one final glance and continues fighting with more ferocity, still angry at her foolishness.

After the orcs have retreated and the battle is over Tauriel stands alone on the bridge and watches the turbulent stream run downhill, towards Esgaroth, towards the Lonely Mountain where the dragon sleeps. The dwarves are long gone.

There’s an unfamiliar, heavy feeling in her chest. Tauriel doesn’t know what to make of it and how to make it go away. 

Run, Kili, run, she thinks. The orcs are after you. 

Get away from them. Kill the dragon. Get your treasure. Go back and marry a nice girl, one your mother won’t object to. See the world with your chosen one.

Be happy.

 

 


	2. A study in Cod

Now that the orcs are left behind, however temporarily, and Thorin’s company is again on its way to Laketown, Kili has time to think.

Perhaps he should be planning on how to kill the dragon before it wakes up and wrecks havoc for miles around the Lonely Mountain but the dwarves have hired Bilbo for that, haven’t they? It’s the hobbit’s dirty job now. Or perhaps Kili should carefully consider if his uncle is in the right state of mind for this quest. Something about Thorin seems off lately. But then Thorin is one stubborn piece of dwarf and would not listen to reason anyway. So Kili chooses to think of things kind and lovely, not of things worrisome and depressing. He chooses to think of the elven guard, Tauriel.

That’s her name. He knows because he asked and she answered.

It was easy, really easy, as if they were at some party and both have had a couple of mugs of ale to ease up their spirits. A strange outcome, given that she had jumped out from Mahal knows where, saved his life from a few giant spiders, denied him a dagger, called him a dwarf like it was an insult and locked him up in a cell. The fact that he tried to provoke her with a rather crude innuendo probably didn’t help either.

Truth be told, Kili had only invited her to search his pants because he wanted to piss her off. She seemed just like any other elf he met so far: cold, untouchable and unreachable. Polite but always looking down on other races; self-assured of their own superiority in everything, including things they had no idea about. He wasn’t risking anything even if he were to offend her – an elf wound never look at a dwarf in an even remotely-romantic way. Since the beginning of times elves have kept to themselves. Very rarely some love-stricken elf would condescend to marrying a human and such unlikely unions would be remembered in poems and songs, but no such songs or poems have even been written about dwarves or let alone hobbits. Although Kili could certainly understand why there have been none about orcs either – no one wanted to marry an orc, orcs included.

He fully expected her to take leave with a snort of derision and to avoid him in all years he would have spent in prison. Yet she did not leave right away and her reply was almost playful, as if she were challenging him. It made Kili smile involuntarily as she was walking away and he was glad the elf couldn’t see his stupid happy face.

It hasn’t gone unnoticed by her male companion though. While Kili’s knowledge of Sindarin has been very poor he recognized a word for “dwarf” and it became obvious that the blond was asking about him. Kili understood none of the guard’s answer (apart from the word “dwarf” which was used again) but she didn’t sound angry or displeased. In fact, there seemed to be a dreamy undertone in her voice and her words must have pissed the prissy guy off. The prissy guy gave Kili a glare the meaning of which Kili knew too well. “Don’t talk to my woman.” Kili glared back, hoping that his message (“Your woman? We will see about that, you elven princess”) was correctly interpreted.

The elf came back that very night although he didn’t expect her to. He ended up telling her about the rune-stone and his promise and actually got to see her smile. It made him feel good about himself and for a moment Kili forgot that he was talking from behind thick bars.

He shouldn’t have forgotten. Because then they really talked, almost as if they were some sort of friends and all of a sudden she was coming to chat to him every evening. It is during those conversations that he realised something important: she wasn’t one of those typical elves that were perfectly content with their elven lives, dismissing everything else as inferior and not worth their attention. The world outside excited her and she longed to see more of it.

Oh, if only it were that simple.

Open the door then and come with us, he wanted to tell her. Come with _me_. We will sleep under the starry skies and eat by the roaring fire. We will bargain at town markets and drink ale at seedy taverns until someone starts a fight and then we will join in and kick everyone’s asses. Every time we wake up in an unfamiliar place we will have one more funny story to tell. I will give you half of my treasure. No, two thirds. No, all of it. You will walk in starlight in a world far, far away. Come with me. Do not say a word other than yes.

He didn’t say any of that, of course. Instead he asked for her name and she told him and then he offered his own in return and from there on she wasn’t just an elf to him and hopefully he wasn’t just a dwarf to her and when Kili was telling her more about his adventures it felt pleasant but strange, although not in a bad way…

M-m, Tauriel…

Daughter of the forest.

Thinking of her is a great distraction from the dull pain in his wounded leg and from the stench of fish all around him. Kili lies in the dark, cold cod against his burning skin, and wonders why she saved his life the second time, why she let him escape… However busy she might have been slaying orcs it would take her very little effort to prevent him from pulling the lever and opening the portcullis…

Kili wonders if he will ever see Tauriel again. Probably not. But he wants to see her so badly, oh, he does.

He is no stranger to some fun and he has danced merrily with many a she-dwarf and kissed a fair few of them. But those kisses, as pleasant as they were, could not make Kili forget the world and he didn’t find the women of his kind particularly pretty and enticing. It bothered him at first and for a while he was even wondering if maybe he didn’t fancy dwarrowdams because he preferred to _mine with his own crew_ , as the dwarves used to put it. Yes, these things happened sometimes and while it wasn’t widely discussed Kili knew perfectly well that sometimes men liked men. But he never felt attracted to any of his male friends or acquaintances and thus gradually put this thought to rest, having concluded that he probably just wasn’t interested in romance in general.

That was until their group came to Rivendell. The elf maids (at least Kili thought they were maids back then) caught his eye for a while. They were tall and slender and so different from his folk that he found it bewildering. But in the end their apathy, expressionless faces and the coldness of their beauty drove Kili to conclusion that there really was no temptation there for him.  

Kili thinks that _she_ seems different. _She_ is an elf and yet she looks rather lively with her fiery hair and a variety of emotions on her face. And he certainly does not find _her_ cold.

Talking to Tauriel was probably the best part of the quest and now Kili regrets it because seeing the kind of person she is makes him like her. But even if he likes her there’s no way she would look affectionately at a common dwarf, she, who seems to have the attention of that prissy Prince of elves. Kili reminds himself that he is somewhat a Prince too but the idea is really laughable. The younger of the two nephews of the King under the Mountain who isn’t even yet an actual King under the Mountain… The heir who doesn’t want to be King and hopefully will never have to be King…

Kili tells himself not to be stupid. He will never see her again and even if he did, Tauriel would never love him. For Mahal’s sake, he is everything that elves are not – reckless, wild, hairy, not nearly immortal and he has little appreciation for harp music. Also, regardless of the fact that he is rather tall for a dwarf, Tauriel is still almost a head taller than he is. And while he could make a vow to shave every day or even educate himself in the damned ways of the damned harp he would never be able to change his height.

Sure, she did say that love had nothing to do with height but it’s easy to say this while thinking about some rumoured couple you’ve never actually met and it is an entirely different matter when you are the one considering being involved.

So yes, Tauriel would never love him.

The thought stings. Probably more than the damned wound on his thigh.

 

 

 

 


	3. Strange is the Night

“You were really lucky she didn’t bother to search your trousers,” Fili says to his little brother as the barge glides across the lake, towards Laketown. “Saved you the embarrassment of revealing your tiny pickle.”

The other dwarves chuckle with laughter. Bard told them to keep quiet but it’s hard to do so when there’s such a delightful topic on the table.

“Get lost!” Kili snaps. He is clearly not in the mood. “I’ll let you know it’s of a perfectly decent size.”

“And for a dwarf it might be,” Fili agrees happily, “but you, my dear, were trying to impress an elf! I’m sure you’ve got nothing to compete with that striking blond dude who keeps her company.”

Now the dwarves snort: in their books the blond elf counts as anything but “striking” and same goes for the red-haired guard. Then they erupt in a series of jokes about the pair, starting from who wears pants in the relationship (“none of them, because they are both sissies”), moving on to how the two of them will consummate their marriage (“by looking at stars and singing of how everyone else is beneath them”) and finally ending with how they will name their kids (“The Star Too Bright To Shine Upon This World and “Elves Are Just Awesome And You Can Suck It”).

Kili grinds his teeth. Audibly.

Fili sighs. His poor brother might have forgotten that while he was chatting up that elven lass some of his fellow dwarves were in their cells right next to them. Fili certainly was and he was awake and he heard every word of it.

Every single one.

And now Kili’s lame attempts at flirting with the she-elf serve as an inspiration for many jokes amongst the company. To Kili’s credit, he plays the part of an offended suitor rather convincingly.

“Can’t say I fancy elf maids myself, huh? Too thin, huh? Oin reminds him. “Liar.”

“No temptation there for you?” Gloin joins in, mocking. “Although that one there was not bad?”

“Ah, but at least that one _was_ an elf maid,” Fili points out, alluding to the Rivendell experience.

His companions are absolutely hysterical although they have to stifle their laughs and keep it down. An evening hasn’t been so merry for a while.

“You are just jealous,” Kili mutters, “because she didn’t talk to _any_ of you!”

That is true, but it doesn’t bother Fili and he is sure none of the other dwarves care either. She is not exactly the type of woman any of them would like to court: no beard, not even a moustache, too skinny, too tall, too elven.

However, given all that, she is still _not entirely_ unattractive, Fili feels generous enough to give her that. And her hair is all fire. That colour is well respected amongst the dwarves.

Still, it is impossible that Kili would actually fancy the fiery lass. They are completely unsuitable for each other and his little brother must know that, right?

Right?

Here Fili actually slaps himself, earning a curious glance from Nori who is sat across. Of course Kili knows! What is he, stupid? Tasteless? Desperate? He was just bored in prison, that’s why he kept talking to the lass. Things can get a bit dull if you are locked in a cell for days. But now they are free again and on the way to Erebor and Kili will no doubt forget the elf even existed once the dwarves get enough of the topic and move on to something else.

“Screw you guys,” says Kili, fed up with the mocking.

That naturally earns him a few more jokes.

Fili sits next to his brother, like they always do. Everything is going to be ok in the end.

***

A few days later Fili realises he was wrong. Things might not be ok in the end. In fact, they probably won’t be ok because Kili is sick - really sick - and no one knows how to treat it.

He tries to continue on a quest. Of course Kili would, he is proud and stubborn and was raised on the tales of Erebor and its former glory. But his plea falls on deaf ears and Thorin orders him left behind. Naturally, Fili stays, too. He truly belongs with his brother.

He soon discovers that Thorin might have done them a great favour by not letting them come. Kili’s condition is deteriorating alarmingly fast and while Bard reluctantly lets them use his house once again he is no healer and cannot help them.

They decide that it must be the dark magic doing its work and Bofur runs off to look for Kingsfoil for they’ve heard before of how elves have used it successfully to heal those poisoned by darkness. But Fili’s heart is aching with anticipation of a sad end to come: even if Bofur finds Kingsfoil there is just one little problem – none of them are elves and none of them can work elven magic. Kili is doomed to die and he hasn’t even faced the dragon. This is most unfair. This is most infuriating. They should have stayed in their prison at Mirkwood because at least Kili was alive and kicking back then and even had a lass to chat to.

Yes, Fili couldn’t care less about the quest right now. The whole Lonely Mountain can burn and collapse on itself with its damned treasure! He can’t believe he is losing his brother over stupid gold and cold gems…

An orc raid doesn’t improve Fili’s spirits. A chaotic fight breaks out in Bard’s house with Sigrid and Tilda screaming, Baid fighting a little, and Fili and Oin being the main defendants of the place. They are doing well, if one considers that they haven’t got any proper weapons and throwing plates around isn’t very effective against orcs, but Fili can’t deny that the numbers are very unequal and that it is only a matter of time before they are overpowered and slaughtered. That’s why he can’t find a single bad word to say to Kili’s fiery lass – Tauriel her name is – and her blond companion when they appear from out of nowhere and take their side.

The elves fight well, Fili would be a fool not to acknowledge that. They are pretty much killing machines, their movement elegant and calculated, their hair and garments not even a bit out of place as they slaughter orcs by the dozen. But then they had centuries if not thousands of years to practice, haven’t they? The fight is over soon, the orcs retreat and Fili can finally catch a breath.

Kili’s grumble of pain catches his attention but he is not the only one affected. The fiery lass has her eyes on Kili right away and something changes in her expression.

“You killed them all,” the human child whispers in awe.

“There’re others. Tauriel, come!” the blond elf is at the window, his weapons bare. He is ready to go after the orcs and he clearly wants her to come help.

The fiery lass looks at him for a moment but Oin who is holding Kili in his arms says pointedly “We are losing him!” and her attention diverts back to Kili. She looks unsure of what to do.

Fili is about to fall on his knees in front of her and beg her to heal his brother because really, he will stoop so low as to beg an elf if it means Kili gets to live. Pride doesn’t matter here. But the blond prince seems to recognize the dilemma his companion is facing.

“Tauriel,” he says again, giving her a weighted look even though her eyes are locked on Kili and she therefore can’t see the elf. This time the name doesn’t sounds like an invitation to follow. Then he is gone.

The lass rushes to the window and watches him run off. She looks confused and troubled. A deep sign leaves her parted lips and she looks at Kili again but doesn’t move to help.

At this point Bofur – where in Aule’s name were he before? - rushes up the stairs and nearly bumps into her, Kingsfoil in his hands like a bouquet of flowers. The elf looks at Kingsfoil like it’s the greatest treasure, takes it from a bewildered Bofur and studies it in disbelief for a few long seconds while murmuring “Athelas… Athelas.” 

Elves just can’t say “Kingsfoil” like everyone else, can they?

“What are you doing?” Bofur mumbles. He hasn’t recovered from his confusion and Fili can’t blame him.

“I’m going to save him,” the lass announces, more to herself than to anyone else in the room.

Fili thinks he was wrong – this elf is the most _beautiful_ thing he’s ever seen. 

They have to act quickly. The elf crashes Kingsfoil into a paste as Fili and his friends get Kili to lie down. Kili kicks and tries to get away from their grasp as he no longer recognises the world around him and can’t tell a friend from a foe.

“Hold him down,” the fiery lass orders as she finishes preparations.

The elven medicine is sure weird.

“Does she have to use walnuts?” Oin whispers, still holding Kili down and carefully watching the fiery lass in action.

“Shh!” The tension is too much for Fili to bear.

The fiery lass presses Kingsfoil paste to Kili’s wound and starts to chant in Sindarin. Fili prays to Mahal it works. From what he knows of the fiery lass she is a warrior, a mighty one, but not a healer.

It looks really, really painful. Kili cries out even louder and starts to wrestle with them more violently. Sigrid rushes in to help hold him down and calls on Tilda to do the same. But the elf continues to chant and as she does Kili’s pain seems to subside. Eventually he relaxes and falls limp on the bed, looking exhausted but alive.

Everyone but the fiery lass breathes out a sigh of relief and steps back to let the healer finish her job undisturbed.

Then things get even weirder than elven medicine.

The fiery lass is bandaging Kili’s wound when he calls out her name. Fili can see her flinch at the sound of Kili’s voice and turning towards him right away.

“Lie still,” she tells his brother. Fili can’t see her face but her voice is soft with affection.

“You cannot be her… She is far away…” he hears Kili mutter, probably in delirium, because this is definitely _her_ and she is _right there_. “She is far, far away from me… She walks in starlight in another world… It was just a dream…”

That’s it! Kili needs to shut up and stop embarrassing himself and the whole line of Durin! He’s already said too much, he sounds like a love-sick idiot and the fiery lass will probably laugh at Fili’s stupid besotted dwarf of a brother for years to come.

Fili is about to rush over and slap some sense into Kili’s head when his brother’s hand moves slightly, seeking Tauriel’s and she does not pull away.

“Do you think she could have loved me?” Kili asks, his voice all dreamy and sad.

The elf doesn’t reply, not with words. But she maintains the light touch of their fingers and to Fili _that_ speaks volumes.

Great depths of the darkest mines of Moria! Ten thousand dead orcs! This is for real! It can’t be but it is! His brother is crazy but the fiery lass is nuts, too! Probably fell from a tree and hit her head too hard… 

Oh, uncle will be livid if he ever finds out… So will be mother… Daggers and axes will fly and someone might even be disowned. Other lines will laugh at Durin’s Folk. An heir of Durin the Deathless and Thorin Oakenshield falling for an elf, like there are no decent dwarrow lasses left, what a disgrace… Kili, you are a complete and utter moron, why did you have to fancy an elf when you could have had pretty much any dwarven lass even if you weren’t of royal dwarven blood?

And then a harsh thought hits Fili. 

His brother would be _dead_ if it weren’t for the elf.

The fiery lass saved him. In fact, she did it more than once. And if what Kili was saying was true then she kind of, sort of let them escape.

Fili is young and inexperienced but he knows of gratitude. Whatever this is, he will not judge hastily. 

He will probably have to be friendlier to her in the future, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think Kili would have got his fair share of mockery for laying his eyes on an elf. After all, elves and dwarves are not fond of each other. Also they are quite different in terms of their appearances so I’d imagine their respective standards on beauty would be rather different, too. Kili somewhat confirms this idea in the Unexpected Journey when he talks about elves being of no temptation for him because they are “too thin” and have high cheek bones and creamy skin. (Nevertheless, Kili, you were staring, there’s no denying it.)
> 
> So Fili doesn’t think much of his little brother’s crush other than in the context of mockery. But then he witnesses the whole “she walks in starlight in another world” conversation and thinks “Oh dear, Kili is in big trouble.” But I think the fact that Tauriel healed Kili when effectively no one else could (although part of me wanted to see Legolas show off some elf magic just for loolz; I am weird, I know) and that would mean a world to him because Kili is his brother. So Fili would certainly start seeing Tauriel in a better light.
> 
> One final thing. I’m not sure most of the dwarves would know Legolas by name. Thorin probably would since there were some relations between Erebor and Mirkwood and both Legolas and Thorin probably bumped into each other from time to time. But given Thorin’s disdain for all things and beings elven I don’t think he’d care to ever call Legolas by name and they don’t really speak to each other anyway. Others would probably not know who he is exactly but would guess he’s someone important. But they all know Tauriel because well – they like to tease Kili.


	4. Father and Son

Legolas is fuming. 

Well, to anyone else he probably looks like his normal composed stoic self, but on the inside he wants to kick some giant spiders and then rip them to pieces.

He just had a typical annoying conversation with his father, King Thranduil. The one that goes along the following lines.

“Father, you have nothing to worry about. I do _not_ like Tauriel _that_ way.”

“But my son, you do!”

“I am pretty sure I don’t. She is just a good friend." 

“I am eighteen hundred years your senior and I know better! You love her.”

“With all due respect, father, I really don’t.”

“Yes, you do!”

“No, I don’t!”

“Yes, you do!”

“But father, she is like a little sister to me. Besides you would never allow me to court a Silvan elf.”

“And that’s precisely why you shouldn’t think of her that way!”

“But I don’t!”

“But you do!”

This is like arguing with a five year old – long, tedious and always ends with Thranduil stomping his feet. Father always thinks he knows best even when he really doesn’t.

Tauriel sure is great but Prince of Mirkwood just doesn’t feel it for her. He wonders why just about everyone else seems to think differently: his father who dreads the possibility of his only heir marrying a Silvan elf, the fellow guards who always try to give them privacy and even that stupid cheesy dwarf who was trying to amaze Tauriel with his silly naïve stories and then shot Legolas some deadly looks. Can’t one be friends with a woman and not have a romantic motive?

Sure, he cares for her, but that’s because he pretty much saw her growing up and she is the closest to family that Legolas has beside Thranduil! That’s why he was not pleased seeing Tauriel talking to that dwarven rascal for a good couple of hours _every single day_ of their captivity. She seemed really fascinated by him and in the end it would only break her heart. Legolas is not stupid and he knows there’s no chance their little love story could ever end well: dwarves and elves do not mix for a reason.

Besides, Tauriel could really do so much better! Lindyr fancies her a lot and he is a very decent elf. He is hesitating to make a move because he is convinced that Legolas will try to woe her at some point, but give it a decade and Legolas could convince him otherwise. Then Lindyr would hopefully act.

Rhistel also seems interested.

Legolas tries to tell Tauriel that she really doesn’t need to throw her life away for some dirty dwarf but she is one stubborn maiden. She will not hear of it, she will not let him die and it is all of a sudden her battle, too! She will follow the dwarves all by herself, somehow manage to avoid the army of orcs who also follow the dwarves, then work her elven magic which she really isn’t that good at. Presumably it should all end well with her and her dwarf walking into the sunset never musing about their height, lifespan and lifestyle differences. Oh yes, and the big deadly dragon will just do everyone a favour: apologise then crawl into some deep pit and die. Incredibly cute and incredibly stupid. Legolas isn’t buying any of this.

Oh, what, now it is _his_ fight, too? Tauriel, really?

That’s feelings for you. They turn you into a brainless idiot. Legolas sure is glad he doesn’t have them for anyone.

He tries to reason with his friend again but she will not be persuaded. As Tauriel turns around to walk away, bow in her hand, daggers on her hips and her heart full of confusion, the Prince makes a terrible realisation: he will have to follow her to make sure she will be alright. He will have to leave Mirkwood and his father will be convinced they have eloped together or something and when he finally returns home he will never hear the end of it.

As he walks behind Tauriel, bow in his hand, daggers behind his back and his heart full of annoyance, Legolas wonders if he should make friends with some dwarves while he is at this stupid quest.

 

At least it will give Thranduil something else to go on and on about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what, I didn’t want to have a love triangle. I’m generally not a fan of those but the one with Legolas, Kili and Tauriel leaves me particularly disinterested (unless, perhaps, Legolas would fancy Kili which would be hilarious, I would love to see Thranduil’s reaction to that) because in my opinion there’s just no spark when Legolas and Tauriel are interacting. 
> 
> Also I’m planning on having Legolas interact with the dwarves more and I want to concentrate on him seeing them as weird, but interesting folks (so that he can get past his prejudices a little) and not on how much he hates Kili because he stole his dream girl.


	5. Laketown and the Beast

"We need to get out of here," the oldest of the dwarves says.

"And why is that?" Tauriel frowns. Kili is no longer dying but he needs to rest and should not run around in the next few days, let alone the next few hours.

"The dragon," the dwarf with a funny hat offers as if it explains everything.

"The dragon," Tauriel repeats. "What of it?"

The oldest dwarf steps forward.

"Allow me, lass. You see, our King, Thorin Oakenshiekd, and the rest of his company went to the Lonely Mountain where the dragon slept. Now, did you feel how the lake bed shook a while ago? Do you hear this weird noise? Does the air feel strange to you? Something tells us they woke Smaug up and now he is very _angry_."

Tauriel's mind is quick. She knows history and she recalls how quickly the town of Dale was reduced to cinders. They have under half an hour, perhaps even less. After that death will dart through the air and everyone will see fire.

"We need to warn the townsfolk," it is a command, not a suggestion. She is not leaving humans unaware. "You!" she turns to the dwarf with a short blond beard and two funny braids for a moustache. "Go ring the bell or something. Get their attention. Tell them the dragon is coming and they need to run for their lives or fight, whichever. Then get back here as quickly as you can. Then we will leave."

"And what of Kili?" The dwarf asks, clearly worried. "He can't run or swim like that."

The human girl intervenes.

"Our father has two boats outside. You have to go down the stairs to find them. Take one and swim away. We will stay behind and help the people, then leave, too."

Tauriel considers her words for a second then nods energetically.

"Right. We will do that,” she turns to the dwarf with two braids. “I will carry your friend. Just get back here soon. We can’t wait much longer."

The dwarf gives her a long look full of questions then mutters “Got it!" and runs out. The human girl darts after him shouting "Wait, wait, I'll tell you where the bell is!" The other human children begin to pack frantically.

Tauriel gathers Kili in her arms. A groan escapes her lips: he weighs a lot and she won't be able to carry him like that. There must be other way.

"Help me get him on my back!" she shouts to the dwarves. They oblige immediately and in a few seconds Kili's hands wind around her neck. He is barely conscious but he holds on tight and that's a small relief. For once Tauriel is glad he is quite short; otherwise he would be even heavier.

"Take your weapons, grab some blankets or anything warm you can find and don't forget my bow and my bag, it’s got useful supplies!" she reminds the dwarves. Her hands are full of Kili so she could really use some help with her stuff. The dwarves gather some things quickly and they are ready to run. In a minute or so a sound of a bell comes and in another one the air fills with scared voices of the townsfolk. No one is happy to see the dragon.

“Any minute now,” growls the dwarf with the funny hat.

With a curt “Follow me when he comes, I will get the boat ready!” Tauriel starts her careful descent down the wooden stairs. They creek dangerously under the double weight she is carrying.

Luckily the two boats tied to a small landing pier look sturdy. She carefully lowers Kili into one of them, checks for oars and undoes the knots that secure the boat in place. She feels rather on edge because she has no control over the situation whatsoever: if the dragon strikes now she can do nothing other than dive into the cold water… But even then the hot fire will probably boil her alive.

Finally she hears rushed footsteps and the now familiar creaking of the wood. The dwarves come down, all three of them.

“Go, go, go!” they yell as they jump over the board. The boat rocks but doesn’t capsize. The dwarf with the funny hat and the dwarf with braided moustache grab the oars and start to row frantically. Tauriel grabs her bow, takes an arrow from the quiver and peers into the darkness, ready to shoot anything or anyone who may attack them.

The lake is fairly big and they don’t know where exactly they are going, the night being pitch-black and cloudy, but it doesn’t matter for now as long as they are getting away from Laketown.

They seem to have got away in good time: the lights of Laketown are still visible when they feel an abrupt gust of wind and hear a loud swoosh as if something giant and deadly (“This must be the dragon. What do you think, folks?”) is coming right at their little company. The boat jumps dangerously on the rough waters and Tauriel really really hopes it won’t capsize. She isn’t sure if dwarves are any good at swimming without barrels but even if they are the water is ice cold and the shore is far away in the direction unknown. She may be alright, for she is an elf and the cold doesn’t affect her the same way it affects the mortals. The others will most likely drown.

Smaug either doesn’t notice a tiny boat or thinks he can get it later. He careens towards Laketown where he can reap himself a larger harvest of death. The oars are forgotten as dwarves watch the fire sparks that mark his way. They fall closer and closer to the doomed city.

“Do you think Bard’s kids got away?” someone whispers.

Bard? Who is Bard? Tauriel has no idea, she will have to ask later.

“I sure hope so. Sweet ones they were,” comes a not-so-optimistic reply.

“Bard said he’d kill the dragon,” the speaker sounds somewhat hopeful.

“Gee, Fili, are you dumb? Girion couldn’t kill the mighty beast and he was a _warrior_! And what is Bard but a fisherman? We asked him for weapons and what did he get us? I’ll tell you what he got us. Crowbars and harpoons!”

“He had a black arrow,” the one referred to as Fili points out.

“Aye, and he hung it in the kitchen. That’s no place for a black arrow!”

As they argue, Smaug begins to attack. He circles around the defenceless town spitting a steam of fire here and there. The inhabitants must have prepared a lot of water as some of the flames seem to go out quickly as if extinguished. But the dragon has a lot of fire to offer. He strikes again and again and Laketown gradually comes ablaze.

Then the moon peeks shyly through an opening in the dark dense clouds. All of a sudden Smaug gives out a high-pitched shriek and his dark form curls up in the air, as if punched in the gut by some mighty force. Before Tauriel and the others understand what happened the dragon goes down, hits the burning roofs of Laketown (the impact sends thousands of sparks flying high into the anthracite-coloured sky) and slides into the lake, defeated.

The next moment their boat is shaking on the waves again and Tauriel thinks that this time they will drown for sure.

“Whoa, is he dead?” says the one called Fili when the lake clams down.

“Hope so,” Tauriel mutters.

“Shall we return to Laketown?” the dwarf with a funny hat asks.

Laketown, huh…

It doesn’t look like there’s much left, to be honest, and what remains will not be there much longer: the flames spread quickly.

Tauriel shakes her head. “No. We can’t help them anyway and they probably hate you guys right now.”

The dwarves seem to find her words reasonable.

“But what do we do?”

“Head for the shore, rest for the night,” the oldest of the dwarves offers. “Then we’ll see.”

The burning flames of Laketown blaze brightly, giving just enough light to make out the dark silhouette of the lake-bank rising in the distance. Everyone nods and dwarves take to the oars. No one says a word. In about half an hour the bottom of the boat scrapes the mud and Tauriel is first to jump off, the rope in her hand. She ties it around a sturdy looking tree trunk.

“Looks like an alright place to stay for tonight,” she announces.

The dwarves unload their limited belongings. Tauriel brings Kili and lowers him onto the ground on the side of a small clearing about sixty feet away from the water. He is still unconscious but his breathing is even and steady and his skin feels normal so she is not worried. The dwarf with the braided moustache brings one of the blankets and gently wraps it around Kili’s sleeping form. Then he studies Tauriel’s face. She does not avert her gaze.

“Thank you for saving my brother,” he finally says. “I am forever in your debt”.

Tauriel gasps. “You are his brother?”

He nods curtly. “Yes. My name is Fili. At your service.”

“As I am at yours. I am Tauriel,” she offers.

“We all know who you are,” chuckles the one with the funny hat. “I’m Bofur. And this lad over here is Oin”.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Fili echoes. “No, really! Don’t know what brought you to Laketown but it was a lucky coincidence.”

“It wasn’t. A coincidence, that is.” Tauriel isn’t sure why she feels the need to explain but she does anyway. “We captured an orc and questioned him. He said the arrow that shot your brother was poisoned,” she trails off here, not sure what else to say.

What _can_ she really say? She couldn’t even explain it to Legolas and he is the closest to a friend Tauriel has ever had. So what can she tell these dwarves she barely knows? _I had a few conversations with your friend over there and now he is somehow dear to me, probably because he is the only one who understands me but then his smile is also very charming so I really don’t know..._

Oh Valar…

“And you came all this way to rescue him?” Fili is persistent.

This is somewhat embarrassing but she admits to it. “Yes, I did.”

The dwarves respond with all sorts of encouraging sounds. Bofur even gives her a pat on the shoulder.

Fili gestures at his brother’s sleeping form. “You know he likes you, right?”

Tauriel feels the blush creeping up her cheeks and is grateful for the darkness around them.

“Yes,” she whispers finally, “I have noticed.”

“Aye, no wonder,” Fili chuckles. “He is not exactly subtle… And you? Do you like him?”

A long pause. That’s a very, very good question. Suddenly Tauriel wouldn’t mind facing a dragon or thirty orcs.

“It’s… It’s complicated,” she manages.

“Fili, leave her alone!” This comes from Bofur. Tauriel is grateful.

“I just asked, there’s no harm in asking!”

“Well, don’t ask!”

No one says anything else and this is effectively the end of the conversation.

They can’t light a fire but Tauriel reaches into her bag and finds a few pieces of lambas. It doesn’t look like much but it’s actually enough to sustain their little party for a few days. She sets some aside for Kili and shares out the rest. Everyone is tired so they eat in silence and then the remaining blankets are distributed and everyone is quickly asleep.

***

Tauriel wakes up to the sound of her own name. The ruins of Laketown have burnt out but the dawn is beginning to break and she can make out Kili’s silhouette in the twilight. He is leaning over her, his face bare inches from hers.

“Yes?” she asks, a little uneasy.

“Sorry, I didn’t meant to scare you or anything,” Kili does sound apologetic. “I just wanted to make sure that it was you. That I wasn’t imagining things.”

“It is me,” Tauriel assures.

Silence. Lying on the ground with a dwarf pretty much over her seems a little odd but Tauriel reminds herself that nothing about this situation is normal in the first place.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, unsure of what else to say.

“Better,” Kili finally moves a little farther away giving her a bit of space. “Much better. Thanks. You saved my life again. That’s three times in less than a month. I should really start paying you back.”

Tauriel smiles although he probably can’t see it.

“You can start tomorrow.”

“I will!” he seems disappointed that she doesn’t believe him. “Maybe not by saving you because you don’t look like someone who needs to be saved, ever. But I’d get you the finest foods and finest silks and sing you songs if you‘d like me to, I sing pretty well…” he trails off, embarrassed.

She is probably going to regret it but Tauriel can’t fight the temptation to tease him a bit.

“Sounds good,” she says with a chuckle. “My King will be livid. He _deserves_ to be livid.”

That comes out vengeful but she feels justified. She might not like Legolas that way but Thranduil had no right to imply she wasn’t good enough for the Prince.

Speaking of Legolas… Did he make it out of Laketown? There’s no way of knowing at present but Tauriel hopes he did. He is a decent man. And he helped her a lot.

Kili doesn’t find her words funny.

“It’s not like I _wanted_ to feel like this,” he says, anger rising in his voice. “I know you are an elf, you are all too good for us! High cheek-bones and creamy skin and _tall_ … And you’ve got that _Prince_ and probably a bunch of elves swooning at you from afar…”

Tauriel feels taken aback.

It is quite ironic, really. She is the one who left her home and her life behind and went after him without thinking twice simply because she couldn’t bear the idea of him dying. But she never really thought about how much Kili actuallyliked her, not even when she heard him talk of her as he was half-conscious.

“I am sorry,” Tauriel whispers, “that was uncalled for. And I am not with Legolas. He is just my friend.”

“Well, I bet he’s got _loads_ of ideas on that friendship!” by the sounds of it Kili is still sulking. “Where are we anyway? I am a little hazy on things.”

She quickly narrates the events of last night.

“Whoa!” Kili says. At this point it is just light enough for her to see him properly and she has to admit that he is really adorable with his long unruly hair and dark lively eyes…

The stubble also isn’t bad.

“Your King is stupid!” Kili professes all of a sudden with an air of an expert. “If he thinks his son is too good for you then he is not fit to be King because he is an idiot! You are beautiful and strong and clever and funny. What else does he want?”

“Elves are not supposed to be funny,” Tauriel reminds him with a sigh.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Kili looks at her like she’s just said the dumbest thing in the world. Maybe she has. “Dwarves want their lasses merry and quick with a joke before they want them beautiful. Beauty goes away. Merriness stays.”

“Well, despite all that I am convinced your kin would not be fond of me either.”

Oh, she should really bite her tongue, she is going where she is not sure she wants to go.

“Uncle Thorin? Well, yeah, he’d be crazy mad, he is not fond of elves at all…”

Yeah, right, that’s the polite way to put it. Thorin would probably breathe fire on that particular occasion.

“… But he’d come around eventually. He knows what it is like to want something and not be able to have it. I’d tell him how good you are and he would see things my way.”

“And orcs might fly,” Tauriel declares somewhat sarcastically.

“Orcs _will_ fly,” the conviction in Kili’s voice makes Tauriel wonder if maybe she believes him a little tiny bit. Then his tone suddenly changes. “They will sprout big ugly wings with long sharp claws and will soar above innocent towns looking for beautiful women to snatch and eat and no one will be able to escape their deadly grasp,” he claws the fingers on his right hand and makes a move as if he is trying to grab something mid-air.

That is odd.

“Ah, sorry,” he says when he notices Tauriel’s confusion. “That’s what we do when we tell horror stories. You know, at night, by the fire…”

“You joke about evil?” Tauriel’s eyes are wide with shock and her eyebrows rise so high that she can feel wrinkles forming on her forehead.

Kili shrugs his shoulders as if it’s no big deal.

“Aye, sometimes. Makes it seem less scary, right?”

She clearly has a lot to learn about the world.

“You never cease to amaze me,” she admits and hopes that the blush does not spread all over her cheeks as she speaks. She is not very good at expressing her feelings with words and she feels jealous of the ease with which Kili tells her he likes her, plain and simple and no embarrassment whatsoever. She can’t do that, the words won’t roll off her tongue. “You know, back at Mirkwood I was always waiting for the end of my patrol so that I could come talk to you. I felt like you understood me.”

Kili gives her a big wide smile.

“I think I did. You wanted new things. Adventure beyond the forest. Now you’ve got one. You killed a good number of orcs, saved a prince from certain death and there’s a dead dragon at the bottom of the lake… oh shit!”

“What’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Kili looks rather upset. “I just thought about the people of Laketown.”

“I think most of them are alive,” Tauriel offers.

“Aye, but their houses are ruined and they have nowhere to go. They were nice to us, Tauriel. They gave us food and arms.”

He sits quietly for a while, thinking something over, biting his lower lip. Tauriel says nothing because she can’t really offer any consolation: the whole dragon fiasco _is_ Thorin’s fault.

“I know,” he says finally. “I will ask uncle to share some of the gold with them. It won’t make everything perfect but it will help some. They can rebuild and all.”

Suddenly a loud annoyed voice comes from a distance and Kili and Tauriel realize they are not the only ones awake.

“That is all very well,” a rather grumpy Fili glares at them from across the clearing, “but can you two cut it out? For Aule’s sake, I am trying to sleep! Seriously, Kili, I’m glad you are no longer dying but just shut up!”

“I love you too, brother,” Kili coos sweetly. He seems to be unaffected by his brother’s outburst and it puzzles Tauriel. Surely he should be upset?

“He is right, you should rest,” she whispers, determined not to disturb anyone again.

“If my lady commands,” Kili moves up to her with a cheeky grin on his face and lies down on his side. The next thing Tauriel registers is his forehead pressed against her shoulder. This is the closest she’s ever been with anyone.

“Tell me if you want me to get lost,” he murmurs.

Tauriel doesn’t. Instead she buries her fingers in Kili’s hair. He lets out a content sigh at that.

“Sleep,” she says and he does. Tauriel lies wide awake and wonders why things that elves deem so barbaric, vulgar and uncivilized feel so right; wonders what is it that she actually feels, why for him and why now.

At some point his arm wraps around her waist. She isn’t sure if Kili is asleep or simply pretends to be but she decides it doesn’t matter. She is still very confused but her heart feels more settled for once and if that’s what it takes to stop the splintering she feels inside then so be it.

***

In the morning she slips out of Kili’s embrace and goes down to the lake. He is still snoring away and so are the other dwarves. Tauriel lets them be. She sits on a fallen tree trunk, looks at the barely moving water and tries to organize her thoughts.

There is an awful lot to consider.

First of all, she left Mirkwood.

No, let’s start over again, this is not quite right.

She _deserted_ Mirkwood.

This means she can never ever come back while Thranduil is King. Which may very well be until the end of time. Doesn’t matter what Legolas tells his father – he will not listen. Tauriel has no excuse – Thranduil explicitly said he did not care for the world around him and he did not care for one dead dwarf.

This thought stings. It is one thing to want to leave home temporarily, being able come back whenever you wish. To be never allowed to return is an entirely different matter.

Truth be told, this is not exactly what Tauriel wished for. But what’s done is done. There’s no point in dwelling on the past – she cannot change it. But she is allowed to feel sad.

She gathers a fistful of pebbles and throws them into the water, one by one, until she feels marginally better.

***

When Tauriel returns she sees everyone wide awake. The blankets are packed.

“What are we doing?” she inquires.

“We?” Oin repeats. “ _We_ are going to the Lonely Mountain to check on Thorin and others. I’m not sure what _you_ will be doing though.”

That’s harsh. And somewhat unexpected. So that’s it, she healed one of them but they are not even going to give her an option to join them?

But before Tauriel can say anything, Kili cuts in. “I told you, she is coming with me. And that means – with us."

He sounds very confident when he says that. Like he doesn’t expect anyone to argue. 

Naturally, arguing ensues.

“And I told you that it’s a bad idea,” Fili says, irritated. “Sorry,” he turns to Tauriel, “it’s nothing against you, you are great. But Thorin _hates_ elves.”

“I saved his _life_ ,” Tauriel points at Kili. “Shouldn’t it _matter_ to him?”

“It would if you weren’t an elf,” Bofur says quietly. “Some grudges run deeper than you can imagine.”

“Thorin is stubborn and very much stuck in his old ways,” Fili offers by way of explanation. “And he will not like whatever it is you have with Kili.”

Tauriel huffs, exasperated. Great, now she’s not good enough for _another_ prince. Anyone else sensing the pattern here?

She will not let this one slide. Thorin is not her king and can’t tell her what to do. “Too bad!” she snorts. “I don’t care what your Thorin says. I am coming, at least for now. And if any of you disagree… then good luck finding another boat.”

“We can always go around the lake,” Oin reminds her.

“That,” Tauriel says sarcastically, “will be a very enjoyable week.”

Point seems to be taken. Kili and Bofur make inviting gestures and get up. As they walk down to the water Tauriel remarks that Kili is limping a little but otherwise appears to have a good use of his wounded leg. She grabs her bow and follows.

Fili undertakes one final attempt to dissuade her. “You will want to leave after having spent but two minutes in Thorin’s company.”

“I do not think so!” Tauriel says loftily. The water licks the soles of her boots as she is ready to leap overboard. “I’ve endured Thranduil for six hundred years. I am prepared for _anything_.”

“Fine,” the blond dwarf concedes. “But don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

“You better warn Thorin!”

Fili waits for everyone to settle then goes knee-deep into the water as he pushes the boat away from the shore. Next moment he climbs overboard and pulls off his soaked boots.

“Kili, my friend,” he says, giving his brother a punch on the shoulder, “you will be _so whipped_.”

Kili punches him back then gives Tauriel a wink.

“Looking forward to it, brother, looking forward.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used the book for the description of Smaug’s attack on Laketown and simply adapted it to what Tauriel and the dwarves would have seen from a distance.
> 
> The bit where Tauriel, being an elf, is not affected by the cold is based on Legolas in LoTR where he happily walks around in light-looking clothes and thin boots in deep snow and doesn’t seem to mind.


	6. Four Dwarves in a Boat (to Say Nothing of the Elf)

The boat advances steadily on the calm waters of the lake, the weak current barely hindering its progress. The five travelers have divided the workload and agreed on doing shifts in order to be as efficient as possible. They don’t have a lot of supplies so they need to find Thorin and the company fast.

Currently Oin is on the prow, directing the way between large ice chunks, Kili and Bofur are rowing and Fili is resting on the stern next to the elf. The two are involved in a quiet conversation. Curious, Bofur listens carefully. He is closer to the conversation participants than anyone else so he can make out most of their words.

Fili is asking the elf a lot of personal questions.

So far he (and Bofur who is eavesdropping) found out that the elf – Tauriel – was born in Mirkwood about six hundred years ago. Her parents perished in an orc raid when she was barely twelve – a very young age by elven standards - and since then the King of Mirkwood took her on as his ward.

“So are you like a princess or something?” Fili seeks to clarify.

“Me?” Tauriel chuckles dryly. “No. I was just raised at the King’s court. It is sort of a tradition. Elves don’t have children that often nowadays so any elven child is precious to our kind. Families take great care of them and if there is no family left to step up the orphans become the responsibility of the royals.”

“Dwarfish families also tend to take care of their kin. Kili and me were raised by our mother,” Fili offer by way of a response. “But uncle cared for us a lot, too. He wasn’t around much because he was always fighting, scheming, trying to re-conquer and all that… But when he was staying with us in Ered Luin he was telling us of Erebor and teaching us how to fight. We liked having him around even though he was always a bit grumpy.”

“So far he doesn’t sound like a guy who I am going to hate after having spent but two minutes in his company,” Tauriel points out.

Fili explains. “Yes, he was nice to us. But he never married and never raised children. Kili and I are his only nephews. If the dragon didn’t kill him and he found…” here he quickly shuts his mouth, presumably not willing to tell the elf about Arkenstone. Probably a wise idea as far as Bofur is concerned. “Never mind. Basically, if he is alive then he is King Beneath the Mountain and we are his only heirs. Forgive me for being blunt but he is not going to like Kili being involved with your kind.”

Tauriel takes it surprisingly well. “Yes, I thought so, too. But your brother has a way of… persuasion.”

Kili probably doesn’t hear this (since they speak in quiet voices). At any rate, no reply comes from him.

“I somewhat envy you,” Tauriel admits quietly. “You have a brother. You two seem close. You also have friends.”

“Surely you must have someone.”

She thinks long and hard and it’s a good two minutes before she gives a reply. “No, not really. I suppose Legolas was always around but he didn’t understand me that well. No one did.”

Suddenly Bofur gets it – why she fell for Kili in a short few weeks, why she left her home, why she is following them now. The elf is _lonely_. Kili is probably her first friend. First person who _listened_. First person who said they felt _the same_.

This is a little too sad to be thinking of.

Bofur tunes out from the conversation and eyes the silhouette of the Lonely Mountain instead. It is beautiful – tall and highlighted by the setting sun, looking more like a volcano dressed in golden fire. Many of their kind would give a lot to see the sight.

His thoughts wander back to Tauriel nevertheless.

Sucks to be immortal if you are alone.

***

When the current becomes a force to be reckoned with the travelers decide to abandon the boat and continue on foot. Their load is light – limited selection of weapons and some lambas which Tauriel still has – so they should be able to cover the distance in a day even though Kili still limps as he walks.

There is a half an hour break before they set off. Fili ventures into the thick bushes and Bofur follows, impatient to clarify a few things he witnessed on the boat.

“What was _that_?” he asks without much introduction.

“What was _what_?” a puzzled Fili retorts.

“What are you doing with the elf, being all nice to her, asking her question?” clarifies Bofur. “You said she shouldn’t come with us. Why a change of heart?”

“Well, she did come in the end. And Kili seems pretty serious about her. Look, I’m just trying to get to know her. She seems decent, even for an elf. And you never know – she might be my sister-in-law one day.”

Fili is visibly uncomfortable with this idea although bless him – he is trying his best.

Bofur chokes on this. “Are you kidding me? They just met!”

“But did you hear the whole she walks in starlight in another world nonsence?” Bofur nods. “I’m telling you, he is smitten! And if she will have him he will definitely have her.”

Bofur raises one eyebrow. “I get that she saved him a lot. But marriage? To an elf, of all things...”

Fili shrugs his shoulders. “Aye, this is Kili we are talking about. He is full of surprises. I think he thrives on it.”

“But surely Thorin and your mother would object and he’d have to drop it. Kili _adores_ Thorin!”

“Yes, Thorin is quite a father-figure in his eyes, but you don’t know Kili like I do. If he wants something, he gets it,” Fili says with conviction. “You know he wanted to be on this quest but mother wouldn’t let him join? Said he was too young and reckless and would definitely get killed.”

“Well, your mother wasn’t far from the truth,” Bofur mutters, “he did nearly get himself killed three times in a row. So how come he is here with us if Dis wanted him to stay home?”

“He pretended that that he had been persuaded and said he would stay. Mother was of course happy. The night before I left to join with the others the three of us had farewell dinner and he behaved so naturally. Gave me a big bear-hug and said he’d miss me a lot. I set off…” Fili sighs, “I set off and three hours later he caught up with me, all equipped for a long journey. Said he had left mother a note with an apology. Apparently also wrote that it was “time to be a man” or something.”

“And Dis let it slide?”

Fili snorts. “My mother? Let it slide? You don’t know my mother. She caught up with us, gave Kili a good beating and urged him to come home. But still he would not listen. Then she cried, made him promise to return to her and gave him the runestone.”

Bofur is a little shocked and doesn’t quite know what to say to this. So he reverts to the original topic at hand.

“But either way, the elf would not have him,” he proclaims with conviction.

Fili furrows his eyebrows. “Well, I’m not _so_ sure.”

Bofur gives him a quizzical look. “Why? Did she tell you something?”

“No,” Fili admits, “But she seems to like my brother enough to have left Mirkwood and chase a pack of orcs for miles.  And where can she go anyway? She deserted her King, she will not be able to live with the woodland elves anymore.”

“But it’s weird!”

“Things happen, elves marry humans…” Fili points out. “Don’t see why they can’t marry us.”

To that Bofur has nothing to say. Dwarves are better than humans, let alone elves. Everyone knows that. Really, any elf would be lucky to catch a dwarf.

Tauriel should be proud.

***

The walk through the woods is not easy. There is no clear path and one has to climb over fallen trees a bit too much for Bofur’s liking. On the bright side, there are no spiders and so he doesn’t complain. Nevertheless, everyone is relieved when they finally make it into the open country.

There are ridges to climb over but the Lonely Mountain has never been closer. Bofur would swear it draws them nearer, calls them home. They should be tired but his feet feel remarkably light.

Tauriel, on the other hand, is not inspired by the sight of Erebor. In fact, she no longer seems so sure of herself. Kili and her walk just behind Bofur and again he can make out the conversation.

“What if your uncle doesn’t let me stay?” asks the elf.

“He will,” Kili couldn’t sound more confident even if he tried. “He would rather gain a niece then lose a nephew.”

But his fair lady is not convinced. And neither is Bofur.

“Nevertheless, what if he _doesn’t_ let me stay?” she says, this time more forcefully.

“Well then I don’t stay either.”

Sometimes Bofur wonders if it is Kili’s simplicity that makes the others call him reckless. With Kili, life is always straightforward and there is an obvious solution. We need to kill a dragon? – Well, Gandalf will do it for us, he must have killed many. I need to win a girl over? – Let me invite her to search my pants. Thorin Oakenshield hates elves and will kick my elf lover out (if not shoot her on sight)? – I will just go with her, it will be romantic.

Tauriel responds to that with a curt “Hnn”. She is probably thinking similarly to Bofur. At least _she_ is the sensible one in their relationship.

On the other hand…

Some prisoner just made a sexual joke to me? – Let me respond in kind. I am a well-respected captain of the guards and I have the Elven King’s trust and respect? – Let me leave it all behind and follow some handsome dwarven lad I barely know. Fili has thoughtfully warned me about Torin and his temper? - I’m not scared of Thorin, into the viper’s nest we go.

Bofur smiles into his moustache. Perhaps they _are_ meant to be together.

***

They don’t know where the entrance is but this proves to be unnecessary. A patrol – led by Thorin himself – discovers them before they can attempt a proper search.

The dwarves are happy to see their friends alive and so are Dwalin and Nori, but King under the Mountain is an entirely different matter. Something akin to a smile shines on his lips for a split second as he looks at Fili and Kili but his mouth presses into a thin line when he looks at Tauriel. The poor elf attempt to return his intense gaze and she holds rather well, the poor girl, but her natural advantage of being taller is somewhat negated by the intensity of disdain in Thorin’s eyes.

“She is with me,” Kili says pointedly. “She is on our side. She let us escape, remember?”

Kind under the Mountain looks darker and darker with every word. But he doesn’t chase the elf away.

“Birds brought me the most distressing news,” he says, finally taking his gaze off Tauriel. “People will come after our gold. So will elves.”

Oin gasps.

“You came right on time. I’ve sent for Dain and his army but soon enough I will need every sword. Those freeloaders will not take what’s ours. I count on your loyalty like I have always counted on it and I know I’m not mistaken in doing so.”

“We are with you, uncle,” says Fili.

“We are with you,” Bofur repeats, “and so are our swords.”

Thorin seems to lighten up at that. “Glad to see you well,” he even says to Kili and places his big hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Come, _all_ of you,” he adds as he begins to walk away.

No one tells Thorin who made Kili well again. It is neither the time, nor the place.

Bofur walks with everyone towards the once majestic gates of Erebor, wondering how long it will take Thorin to explode.

Things are about to get interesting.


	7. How to Lose Friends and Alienate People

Oh, how Thorin wishes he hadn’t dismissed the jokes others were making about Kili’s crush. How he wishes he had given his nephew a good beating to help him put his priorities right. But he hadn’t and now an _elf_ walks among them, all friendly with Fili, Oin and Bofur and showing Kili rather too much affection. Wicked liar! Like an elf could ever like a dwarf!

Thorin can admit that she acts convincingly but he knows elves well: they are rotten from head to toe and cannot love anything but gold. The elven wench is with Kili because he is the youngest and the most naïve and can’t tell that she is lying. But Thorin _can_. Thorin _knows_ she is after Kili because she is after the treasure. Thorin knows and he won’t let his nephew be fooled like that. He won’t let her take a single coin.

He doesn’t chase her away. No, he understands well that if he does it will only drive her and Kili closer. Kili would most likely pick a fight with him, sever their ties and depart with the elven rascal. Thorin Oakenshield would not do his sister-son such a disservice. Kili just needs a little time and a little persuasion. He will see the elf’s true colours eventually.

So Thorin lets her stay and even orders the dwarves to make her comfortable. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, they say. Thorin, in spite of his temper, is no stranger to this strategy.

***

He tries to ascertain Kili’s intentions towards the lass. Perhaps it’s just a game, a conquest to make and once his nephew’s vanity is satisfied he will walk away and there, problem solved and Dis doesn’t need to know.

But no, life cannot be kind to Thorin Oakenshield, life cannot be simple. The greedy humans demand to share the gold, the wretched elves of Mirkwood are at his door whining about damages and some necklace, some of the dwarves – Fili amongs them – have the audacity to whisper quietly that maybe the gold _should_ be shared and stupid Kili intends to _marry_ the elf wench!

Marry the elf! Huh? This is unheard of! What happened to his sister-son?

“You are an heir of Durin the Deathless,” Thorin reminds him, steel in his voice. “You cannot shame yourself with such alliance!”

But he is met with an equal amount of metal in Kili’s response. “There’s no shame in marrying the one you love,” says his donkey of a nephew. “And I love her. You _cannot_ make me unlove her.”

Such insolence!

“Quiet! You know nothing of love you are so foolishly speaking of! I can curse your union. I can disown you. Make you an outcast in both Erebor and the Blue Mountains. Then you won’t love her for long.”

Thorin says “love” like one says “trolls”.

The brat glares at him.

Oh, if only stares could kill…

“You can bed her, I will say nothing of that if you promise to keep it quiet,” King under the Mountain concedes unwillingly.

For the few seconds it takes Kili to process the idea Thorin thinks he has offered a good solution. Then he finds out in words not so polite that he has been gravely mistaken.

Kili’s speech is long and King beneath the Mountain somewhat drifts away in the middle of it but the ending is rather memorable.

“… this is not what  have taught me and Fili! I will do honourably by myself even if I have to go against all of Durin’s folk!” Kili concludes, cold rage evident in his voice. “Honestly, uncle! I know you hate elves but I do not recognise you! When did you lose your honour?”

Thorin coughs at these words, having swallowed wrongly.

He lost honour? He lost no honour, the brat has no idea what he is talking about, he is under the wicked charms of the elven witch. Thorin will find how to deal with him.

“Out of my sight!” he says through his teeth. “Make yourself scarce before I do something I regret.”

***

The army which besieges Erebor does not make Thorin any more agreeable. These humans and elves have the audacity to light fires and make hot meals and sing songs while he wanders the mountain halls, sleepless, checking if the doors which have been sealed off by Smaug remain impassable. His men are tired and food is scarce. The dwarves grumble and complain and offer to be friends with the other races. Next thing they will all want to marry humans or elves and kiss Thranduil’s feet!

Besides, he still hasn’t found Arkenstone and he’s been searching a lot.

Thorin doesn’t want to think about the possibility of someone else finding it first. The dwarves promised to hand the jewel to him, but can they be trusted? The Arkenstone shines so bright, it is so prescious… It might be too much of a temptation for anyone but Thorin…

What if someone found it? Stole it? Are dwarves of his Company really as loyal as they claim? What about the burglar? Burglars are not known for their honesty and integrity… What about that elven wench? Does she really spend most of her time with Kili, like everyone claims? What are they doing under the covers? More importantly, what is she doing after they are done under the covers and his sister-son is tired and falls asleep? Elves don’t need rest, elves don’t need sleep. The redheaded devil probably lurks in the dark of the grand halls, looking for the one thing Thorin values over anything and anyone.

He needs to search them all at some point. Just to make sure.

***

Thorin has been planning on speaking with the elf wench but there are surprisingly few opportunities to get her alone. She is always with someone – talking, laughing, helping. Pretending like she can be trusted. Trying to ingratiate herself.

She confronts Thorin first.

“Whatever you got into your head, I am not here for your gold,” she says calmly, her arms crossed under her chest, her back firm against the wall. “Neither am I here to spy on you. I followed your nephew, is all.”

“You are here for my nephew?” Thorin hisses. “Saving him again and again, leaving your people to be with him… What a cute little story it would be if I didn’t know _why_ you were after Kili. I couldn’t see it before but now I know. You won’t be satisfied with just gold and gems. You want to _rule_ , elf. You want to be Queen under the Mountain!”

Her eyes burn with rage and Thorin knows he is right.

“You want to be powerful,” he continues, walking in half-circles around the elf lass. “You want to be rich. You want to command _dwarves_!” Thorin spits out. “That’s why you are wrapping Kili around your filthy finger. He is an easy target, isn’t he? You have him under your spell but I see through you, Tauriel of Mirkwood, ward of _Thranduil_! You can never have _his_ throne so you came to take _mine_! I will not let you. I would rather kill you,” Thorin warns her. “You are tempting my patience. Leave before I act upon it.”

The elf doesn’t seem to be scared.

“You are mad”, she says. “Mad with dragon sickness. Thranduil knew it would happen. It is corrupting you from inside.”

Thorin doesn’t quite know what happens next but his dagger hits the wall right behind where she stood just a moment ago. The elf herself is a good seven feet away, in a fighting stance, her daggers bare. She glares at him.

This is not good.

“Do it again and I will show you that my daggers can fly, too,” she warns in a low, dangerous voice.

Thorin orders her to leave. Somehow dismissing people has become his only way of dealing with issues.

The elven rascal exist the room never turning her back on him, like one moves away from a rabid dog.

That’s right, she should be scared. Thorin will destroy her if she doesn’t leave Kili alone.

***

Thorin’s people are going mad.

Balin tries to reason with him. Talks about honour and helping neighbours. Senile fool! Where are those neighbours when you need them? Where was Thranduil sixty years ago? What help came from the humans?

“No need to shout in my face,” the old dwarf says, “I can hear you perfectly well.”

Blood rushes to Thorin’s head. “Out!” he hisses, baring his teeth. “Out, old fool!”

***

Dwalin goes on and on about food. “Just imagine the smoked meat, the roasted potatoes, the wine… Oh, Thorin, the wine! Give them a bit of gold, we have more than enough here, no one will miss a few chests…”

“Out!”

***

“We should really try make some friends,” says Fili. “I’m not complaining but it’s just fifteen of us here and we are up against the world. Feels sort of lonely.”

“Fifteen of us?”

“Aye, with Tauriel.”

“With _Tauriel_ ,” Thorin repeats, pure malice in his voice. “You call her _Tauriel_?”

His eldest nephew knows when to back down. “Fine, fine, uncle, fourteen of us here. But that’s even lonelier in my opinion. I know it’s called the Lonely Mountain but…”

Thorin doesn’t care for a lesson in toponymy.

“Out.”

“But why?”

“Out!”

***

The burglar tries to appeal to his kingly side.

“They used to call Thorin Oakenshield a good leader,” he says. “A wise leader. A leader who doesn’t run from the right choices.”

“I _made_ the right choices.”

“Yes, but maybe… just maybe…” there is hope in the hobbit’s eyes, “there might be choices which are even more… _right_?”

Thorin folds his arms on his chest.

“Out, out, I know,” the burglar mutters sadly. “I was just on my way.”

***

Kili comes to talk to him last.

“Listen, uncle…”

Thorin bangs his mighty fist on the makeshift table. “I do not wish to discuss your elf! That conversation is over!”

“And I,” says Kili, “was not going to discuss Tauriel with you. We are indeed done on the subject. I came to talk about the people of Laketown and their rightful claims.”

Rightful claims? Surely he means their arrogant, unfounded demands? Thorin erupts in an impressive blast of first-class dirty dwarven curses. Some of them are quite old and make his nephew blush. “I will not share with these rats!” he tells Kili once he is done swearing.

“But you promised them you would share! And they gave us food and arms and a place to stay in return,” the young dwarf reminds him.

Kind under the Mountain snorts in disdain. “Such a sacrifice on their part!”

“It may not have been much and they might not have given us an army,” Kili agrees, “but you _have_ made a promise. And even if you hadn’t made one it would be honourable to send them some of the gold before we share it out.”

“And why is that?”

“Because,” his nephew explains, “you brought Smaug upon them and thus destroyed everything these people had. I was there and I have seen the magnitude of destruction. There’s no Laketown, not anymore. Their home is gone. For Mahal’s sake, uncle, did you not think this would happen?”

Thorin leaps onto the makeshift table and grabs Kili by the collar.

“Stop repeating the foul words your elf told you!”

The young dwarf looks very offended at that.

“I am not repeating anyone’s words!” he hisses. “I don’t need another being to tell me what’s right and what’s wrong! Breaking your promise is wrong! Being without a heart is even worse!”

King under the Mountain relaxes his grip but he will not back down any more than that. “I will not share a dime,” he growls.

“Give them my share!” Kili offers, desperate for some sort of resolution.

“No way,” Thorin sneers. “Come to think of it, you do not deserve your share if you are just going to give it away. Strictly speaking you weren’t even here when we reclaimed Erebor.”

“I was dying from a poisoned arrow!” the nephew reminds him, hurt and disbelief in his eyes. “The one I got to my thigh when I was making way for all of us to escape Mirkwood!”

“And for that I thank you, but your transgressions make you unworthy of your share. But maybe if you are a good boy and stop talking that nonsense about helping those filthy traitors and get rid of your elf you can be back into my good books,” King under the Mountain offers. “Then I will rethink.”

Kili stays silent for a long minute and Thorin wonders if he’s got through.

“This is it!” Kili bursts out. “You think I care about the treasure? I don’t! I came on this quest because it was an honorable thing to do! But you’ve changed, Thorin Oakenshield! You bring fire and destruction upon people and then you deny them help! There’s no honor in _that_. You are no better than the King of elves that you told us of when me and Fili were kids! I will not be taking my share of gold, you can go choke on it!”

“Where do you think you are going?” Thorin inquires through his teeth as the brat begins to walk towards the door.

“Away,” and Kili can’t help but clarify. “From _you_ and all your _madness_.”

“To do _what_?” Thorin snarls. “Run away with your elf, live in shame, sire some half-bloods and desecrate your ancestry?”

He expects Kili to explode but the undeserving sister-son merely turns around. “You know, Bard and the elven King is outside. And I heard they have an offer you can’t refuse.”

King under the Mountain glares at him, unsure of what is going on.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” says the traitor. His grin is absolutely evil. “Have fun bargaining.”


	8. Nothing Quiet on the Western Front

If someone ever asked Kili to describe the days of his quest he could do it with just one word.

He has never been happier because all of his friends are alive, the dragon is dead, the gold is theirs and the most amazing woman in the whole of Middle-Earth likes him well enough to sleep on his bedroll.

He has never been sadder because they brought death and destruction to people who had helped them, his uncle is plunging into the dark madness that’s known by the name of dragon sickness and a war between three races is about to break out.

Yet Tauriel keeps her hand on his shoulder and it helps him to make sense of the world somehow.

***

The night falls (although it is all the same inside the mountain) and the Company (with the exception of Ori who have to take the first watch) prepares to rest.

“Hey,” Kili says after he and Tauriel roll out the blankets in a somewhat secluded corner, “I was thinking about how you weren’t too fond of Beren and Luthien. Care to hear a different legend?”

Tauriel rolls on her side and rests her head on his lap. “Yes, tell me.”

And so Kili begins. “A long-long time ago under a mountain big and tall lived Farin. There was nothing special to Farin – no title, no significant wealth, no impressive axe-throwing skills... He was a kind soul though, a good dancer and the best blacksmith in his settlement.”

Tauriel interrupts. “So it’s a dwarven legend?”

“Yes, yes,” Kili says absentmindedly, stroking her hair. Tauriel nearly purrs at his touch. “Now, Farin had a sweetheart, a lovely lass by the name of Dagmar. She had a majestic black beard, eyes like emeralds, lips like rubies, skin like moonstone and wielded an axe like no one else did, so naturally a lot of dwarves wanted her hand in marriage. On top of all her merits she belonged to one of the noble houses of Blacklocks and so you can imagine how far she was considered to be beyond Farin’s reach.”

“Indeed I can,” Tauriel agrees. “Like that, behind the ear.”

Kili rubs the tender skin of her earlobe and she closes her eyes in pleasure. He continues with the story.

“Dagmar, however, decided she didn’t need another warrior to be happy and she said yes to Farin. But her father proclaimed he would never give the couple his blessing.”

“Sounds familiar,” Tauriel points out.

“So far it does,” Kili agrees wholeheartedly. “Only Dagmar wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She told her parents it was her life, her choice and she would have Farin with or without their permission. Then her father pretended to agree to the marriage but it was all a ruse to get rid of the unsuitable suitor. Farin was sent off to war between the goblins and the dwarves and threatened with death if he were ever to desert. Being a woman, Dagmar could not follow her lover, but she could not bear the idea of staying behind. She also feared that Farin would have got killed fighting, for while his skills of _forging_ axes were impeccable, his skills _with_ the axes themselves really weren’t great. So she cut her hair, bound her chest, ran away from her family house and joined the newly recruited soldiers, posing as a man just to be with him.”

“I like the sound of her!” Tauriel exclaims. “Now, what happened then? Did they return from the war, triumphant, and lived happily ever after?”

Kili sighs. “No. They fought together in battle and Dagmar fell, protecting Farin’s body. They were buried side by side. Curiously enough, it is said that the night before the battle Farin gave Dagmar a ring he had forged and he had a matching one for himself. And apparently this is where our tradition of exchanging rings when we marry comes from.”

“Are you going to forge me a ring?” Tauriel asks in the same tone she used when she asked Kili back in prison if he was indeed reckless.

“While most of us make the rings themselves I am not skillful with a hammer,” he replies. “However, I will find you something that won’t seem too ordinary on a beauty such as yourself.”

“No, you won’t,” Tauriel sits up and looks Kili in the eye. “Given our history, _I_ will have to do it.”

She is probably teasing him but Kili has a good point of trivia to answer her. “Actually, this would be one way to do it. For the past couple of centuries it has been perfectly acceptable for dwarven lasses to propose. Mine and Fili’s mother, in fact, proposed to our father. And Thorin got a few proposals in his young age. Not that he took any of them.”

“Thorin got marriage proposals?” Tauriel seems genuinely surprised. “How did this happen?”

“I hear he used to be a little friendlier back then,” Kili offers by way of explanations. “Also he was a Prince.”

Then something strikes him.

“Hey, you are talking about the rings!” he murmurs in bewilderment. Not that he hasn’t thought about it – in fact, he has thought (fantasized) about it plenty – but he was not expecting Tauriel to bring this up so soon. She never even said once she loved him (although, he supposes, actions speak louder than words) so this is quite out of the blue. “Are you really thinking of marriage?”

She lowers her eyes, a little embarrassed. “It has crossed my mind.”

Kili opens and closes his mouth, unable to formulate a proper response. They compare being in love to having butterflies in your stomach. Well, he has butterflies _everywhere_ and they won’t stop fluttering.

“Listen,” Tauriel tells him. “I am not good with words, not the way you are. But when Legolas and I captured that orc and questioned him…When he said you’d be _dead_ and then _mocked_ me… I felt what I have never felt before. I felt such hatred… Such irresistible desire to kill…” The elf turns away from him and her hair falls down, hiding her face. “I could have lived never seeing you again as long as I knew you’d be fine. But I could not bear the thought of you dying. Tranduil and Legolas had to stop me because I was going to _butcher_ the orc…”

If this isn’t a love confession then Kili doesn’t know what it is. He wraps his arms around Tauriel’s shoulders, pulls her into a tight embrace and she hides her face on his chest.

“I love you,” he breathes into her soft hair. “Most ardently. But you already know that.”

“I am scared,” she confesses. “For six hundred years I had nothing but my life to lose and now I have you. And that legend… It is beautiful and I like it but it is so sad… The fear of losing someone dear to you… How do I live with it?"

“You learn,” Kili tells her. “There’s no other way.”

***

A few days later Kili is helping Tauriel to wash her long hair when she mentions some rather distressing news. “Your uncle and I had a conversation. It did not go very well.”

He immediately stops rinsing her red locks and asks with the most sincere concern. “Did you get hurt?”

“No,” she answers flatly.

That’s right, she probably wouldn’t. Kili genuinely thinks that Tauriel is simply invincible. She killed thirty orcs and barely even got her clothes dirty.

“Did _Thorin_ get hurt?”

“Not this time.”

He resumes the rinsing, somewhat relieved. His uncle has not been the best of people lately but he is still family.

But Tauriel is not finished. “I promised though that if he tries to threaten me again I will not take it so calmly,” she adds matter-of-factly. “So there’s no guarantee he will not get hurt in the future. In fact, it is only a matter of time.”

“He is difficult,” Kili admits. “I try talking to him, I keep telling him how you saved me but he doesn’t want to hear anything. A grudge too deep, I guess.”

He pours out the now murky water, fills the bucket from the stream that runs through the grand hall of Erebor and hangs it over the fire. “There you go, give it a few minutes to get warm and I’ll wash out the rest.”

“I wish we had herbs,” Tauriel sighs. “I normally use herbs.”

“That mud is fine too, trust me. It absorbs oil and what not. It just needs a large amount of water to wash it out and your hair is very long… but I’m nearly done, I promise.”

Tauriel laughs softly. “I am not in a hurry. And I like it when you wash my hair.”

Kili’s heart beats faster at these words. “Then I promise to do it all the time. Anyway, back to Thorin… When Fili and I were kids he always told us how corrupt and vile Thranduil was. I guess he extended it to all the elves.”

“Looks like it.”

“Is Thranduil really that bad? I mean, fine, he denied Thror help and imprisoned us but how is he with his own people?”

“He has his… quarks.” Tauriel responds. “He likes order. He likes everything to have its place. When things are out of place it annoys him considerably. He doesn’t care about the world as such, not even about other elves, I think. And he can certainly hold a grudge.”

“Do you think he is mad at you for saving me?”

Kili hasn’t thought of it previously but what are Mirkwood’s policies regarding… err… deserters? Do they let them be? Do they hunt them, capture them and bring back to throw in prison? How much was Tauriel really risking when she came after him?

“Maybe a little,” Tauriel touches the water to see if it’s warm enough yet. It isn’t. “But as long as Legolas has returned to Mirkwood (and I’m sure he has) Thranduil probably won’t care that much. He will label me as a traitor, of course, but he will not care to chase me. In fact I reckon he may be a little relieved I’m gone.”

“Well, could be worse, right?”

She nods. “Could be. Listen, Kili, I don’t want to fight humans and the elves of Mirkwood though. Not for Thorin’s obsession with gold. I didn’t know there would be a pointless war when I chose to follow you.”

“I understand. I didn’t know there was going to be war either,” he admits. “I thought uncle would keep his word, pay the humans and we will all be good neighbours eventually. I miscalculated. Thorin… He is not what he used to be.”

“What are we going to do?” Tauriel, obviously, is still concerned and she has every right to be.

Kili tries to imagine a world where _he_ left his kind in order to follow _her_. Truth be told, it is not a particularly joyful picture.

“I will talk to him one last time,” he finally decides. “If he sees reason, there shall be no war.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“My duty is with him, but I will not make you stay and fight the war which is not yours and has no purpose,” Kili smiles at her sadly. “There’s no outright easy honourable choice for me. I guess it will be my turn to betray my people. It is not easy but I will go with you.”

Tauriel doesn’t respond with words but firmly squeezes his hand instead.

“I hope he hears you. I do not want to run like a traitor. I do not want to see you torn between two duties.”

Kili tests the water and, having been satisfied with the temperature, puts the bucket on the floor.

“Let me finish with your hair and I will go talk to him.”

***

Needless to say, the conversation ends up in disaster. Kili spends a good five minutes kicking walls and cursing into the vast emptiness of the halls before he returns to Tauriel and finds that in his absence Fili kept the elf company.

He quickly narrates what happened between Thorin and himself and with every word Tauriel looks sadder and Fili looks more concerned.

“Everything might still turn out alright though,” Kili adds. “Just before I spoke with him I saw Bilbo. And he told me something that might change the course of things drastically.”

Tauriel and Fili lean closer. “What is it?”

“Turns out, Bilbo found Arkenstone a while ago,” Kili whispers. The eyes of his companions widen in shock. “And he realized that Thorin wasn’t going to back down and resolve the conflict peacefully. So he sneaked out and gave Arkenstone to Thranduil and Bard!”

Fili gasps in terror. Tauriel remains speechless.

“This is bad,” mutters his brother. “This is very bad. Thorin will go absolutely crazy. If he finds out that Bilbo was the one to hand over the stone… Kili, Thorin might actually kill him!”

Tauriel nods, still silent.

“They are at the gates now,” Kili warns. “So uncle is about to find out. Also I was so crossed with him that I might have hinted at this. Damn!”

Fili rubs his chin.

“You know what?” he says finally. “You two stay here. This mountain is about to erupt and you do not want to fuel Thorin’s anger. I will go over there and make sure he doesn’t do anything horrible to master Baggins.”

***

“How did it go?”

Fili shrugs. “I learnt some new Khuzdul words. But I will not repeat them because your ears will burn.  Also Thorin went mental and nearly threw Bilbo off the wall. Luckily Gandalf appeared out of nowhere and stopped him.”

Kili lets out a sigh of relief.

“So are we fighting?” Tauriel seeks to clarify.

“No. Thorin said he is forced to buy Arkenstone back. Although he will use Bilbo’s share to do this now that Bilbo has been banished and stripped of his entitlement.”

“Poor master Baggins turned out to be a very good burglar in the end.”

“Aye, he was. You know, I wanted to do the same. Find the damned Arkenstone and give it to Bard,” Fili admits. “But he beat me to it. Lucky devil.”

There is a lot of affection in his voice as he speaks.

***

A day passes, then another one and Thorin still hasn’t fulfilled his promise to send the gold. Concerned, the rest of the dwarves gather in the former throne room and hold a war council.

“If you’d like to know my opinion, this business got ugly,” Dwalin begins. “Even though Arkenstone is at stake, Thorin seems to be reluctant to pay. This either means we will soon be attacked or they will simply continue with the siege. And you all know we hardly have any supplies left.”

“What do we do?” Balin asks. “All of us have tried to reason with him and he remains blind and deaf to every argument.”

“Shall we… remove him from the negotiations?” Ori suggests in a hushed voice.

A lot of arguing ensues. Some see the suggestion as sensible while others are concerned about the propriety of a revolt.

Finally Gloin takes the word. “Friends, it is true that Thorin has made what appears to be poor choices. But we swore loyalty to him,” he reminds the rest of the Company, “and it is not our place to decide whether he is right or not. We do as he says. To go against him would be treason and against our word.”

The dwarves slowly nod, even Kili. They knew the quest won’t be easy. They knew they might die. But it is Thorin they agreed to follow and it must remain so.

Even if they follow Thorin to their death.

***

A large army stands in front of the main gates of Erebor. Hundreds of elvish warriors clad in shiny armours and armed to the teeth. Thranduil himself is at the forefront, riding a massive elk.   

The sight is truly unforgettable.

The dwarves and the lonely elf stand on a small stony terrace just above the main gates. The giant mountain behind somewhat fills them with confidence.  So does the army of Dain which is but a day away according to Roak.

“I came to reclaim something of mine!” announces the King of Mirkwood. “I thought we have negotiated but so far you have not fulfilled your promises. I will restate our demands once more. Return my jewels to me, pay the people of Esgaroth and we will not have to fight. We will give back your Arkenstone and let Erebor do as it pleases you.”

“Concerned about your necklace, huh?” Thorin makes a very obvious inappropriate gesture. “Come and get it, elvish _Queen_.”

The elves somewhat gasp, but so do the dwarves. This means war.

Thranduil does not acknowledge the insult. Instead he carefully studies their small company of fourteen and his eyes stop on Tauriel who has come out with the dwarves for the first time. Kili can feel her tensing up beside him.

“I’ve changed my mind,” as the King speaks, echo magnifies his voice and carries it around, making his words more so heavy and intimidating. “Apart from the necklace you will hand over the traitor. The dwarven whore will get the punishment she deserves.”

Tauriel is shocked at his words but not for the reasons Kili would expect.

“So he does know how to swear!” she mutters, somewhat amused. “Legolas will not believe me!”

Kili is not amused, though. No one in the world can insult his love and get away with it. If he were anywhere near Thranduil there would be a fight already, possibly to the death, but all he can do for now is step forward, bend over the parapet and shout. “When we meet on the battlefield I will make you eat your words and wash the insult away with your blood!”

Surprisingly, the dwarves behind him cheer in support. Even Thorin puts a hand on Kili’s shoulder and Kili can’t really tell if it’s an order to restrain himself or a way of encouragement.

Thranduil seems to find the idea laughable.

“I don’t like killing pups but when they go mad and attack you there’s no other choice,” he proclaims. “If you wish so, child, come and meet your maker, but this will not save her. She is responsible for my son’s death and I will have her head before I will have the emeralds of Girion!”

_Now_ Tauriel gasps in horror.

Kili is concerned, too. Legolas is dead? What? Can’t be!

At any rate, he knows Tauriel is not responsible for this. He grabs the hilt of his sword and waits, ready to defend her. Because Thorin _hates_ Tauriel. Because Thorin wants to get rid of her and he has just been presented with a perfect opportunity.

But Thorin obviously decides that whatever the elvish King wants he can’t have.

“Then come and try to get her, too!” he shouts, his hand still on Kili’s shoulder. “But be careful, gentle elf! Our swords are sharp and my nephew’s arrows fly far…” Then his tone turns particularly dark and menacing. “Your insult is not only to her but to the Line of Durin. And we do not take insults lightly.”

Kili cannot believe his ears! Coming from his uncle, this almost sounds like maybe, just maybe, he can eventually accept Tauriel. But his spirits quickly deflate after he realises Thorin will say literally anything to anger the Mirkwood King.

Thranduil goes red in the face. “You don’t need her in your family, Thorin. She has been fatal to my son and she will do your nephew no good either. We are here and should you change your mind and decide to hand her over we’ll be waiting until tomorrow midday. Choose wisely, King under the Mountain. She’ll betray you just as easily as she betrayed me.”

Thorin crosses his arms and huffs in disdain. “My nephew didn’t ask for either your opinion or your approval when he chose her! And neither did I. You will not get the elf and you will not get the emeralds. That’s my final word!”

“Very well,” Thranduil hisses, “very well. Then you shall all die tomorrow. Really, the heirs of Durin are so foolish. It’s surprising  your line survived for this long.”

***

When they go inside Thorin studies Tauriel carefully.

“Did you really cause the death of Thranduil’s son?”

She looks very insulted. “Of course not! I have no idea what he is talking about!”

“She speaks the truth,” Oin interjects. “Last time we saw Thranduil’s lad he was perfectly alive and healthy. And since then Tauriel was always with us.”

Thorin thinks for a long few seconds then turns to Tauriel once again.

“You can fight with us since your people want you dead. I do not trust you with my life but I trust you will not betray my nephew. If my offer is not for you, better sneak out and run. I will not chase you.”

She responds without hesitation. “I will fight.”

Thorin looks at Kili who stands beside her. “Did you hear that? Go find her a proper mythril mail and whatever else she might need.”

“Welcome to the family,” Fili chuckles once their uncle has gone beyond earshot. “You really are lucky he hates Thranduil so much.”

Tauriel is still visibly disturbed but she manages a weak “As long as I don’t have to call him uncle…”

Fili smiles at her. “I am sure that would not be necessary. We will all die soon anyway.”

Kili elbows his brother to make him shut up. He does not want to think about death.

Yet death doesn’t care. Death will not wait.

***

He spends the night with Fili and Tauriel. The three of them lay on the blankets, Kili in the middle, and talk of things happy and far away until Fili admits what’s really on his mind. “This is stupid. I would give everything to be home right now.”

“I want to go home, too,” Kili echoes. He feels an icy grip of sadness on his heart. It’s getting tighter and tighter and neither Tauriel’s warm touch nor the closeness of his brother can melt it away. “I’d love to at least tell mother I love her one last time.”

Fili says in a small voice, “So would I.”

Kili feels a lonely tear starting at the corner of his eye and slowly trailing down his temple. He is afraid that if he tries to speak nothing but a sob will come out.

Fili begins to hum a sad dwarven song. Something about miners trapped deep underground due to a landslide.  Kili can’t remember half the words so he just lies there and listens and so does Tauriel.

“I love you both,” he says into the dark when Fili has finished.

A sob does come out but he is not ashamed anymore.

Tauriel’s voice also sounds odd as she replies. “We know, Kili, we know.”

“We love you, too,” whispers Fili. “If only we had more time.”

***

The next morning Dain arrives and with him come five hundred dwarven warriors hardened by work and battles. But large human and elven armies separate them from Erebor and Dain is clever enough to know he will not defeat them easily. He tries to threaten but the besiegers won’t back down and then Dain attacks.

Kili wants to bang his head on the wall. Everything is going wrong! They shouldn’t fight!

But a few minutes into the battle something unexpected happens. Dense black thunderclouds cover the sky, a lightning strikes the top of the Lonely Mountain, sending down boulders and rubble, and a flock of leather-wings appears from the North and obscures the light.

“Stop it, you fools!” Gandalf rushes in between the crushing armies waiving his hands in the air. “Stop! A grave danger is upon us all! Here come the orcs and in their tracks follow goblins and wargs! We must fight together if we want to stand a chance!”

He doesn’t need to ask twice. The feud between the dwarves and elves and humans is temporarily forgotten and Bard, Tranduil and Dain all come together, presumably to hold a war council.

“To the Mountain!” Bard commands his men. “Let’s take a good position while we still have time!”

***

“We will not fight,” Thorin says.

His words are met with murmurs of disapproval. Dwarves look at each other, unsure and confused. Kili thinks that someone will have to speak up and it might just as well be him.

“I will not hide when others fight our battles for us!” he shouts in his uncle’s face.

“And neither will I,” devoted Fili supports him, as always.

“Don’t be fools,” Thorin tells them. “Look how many orcs are there already and they keep coming.”

But Kili is not convinced. “Then they will kill us too, sooner or later. But I would rather die with honour than hide like a coward.”

Tauriel simply unsheathes her daggers and walks over to stand next to the brothers. She doesn’t have to say anything, her actions alone have the desired effect: Thorin will not have an _elf_ showing more bravery than he has.

“Baruk Khazad! Khazad ai-menu!” he shouts and a multitude of voices repeat the ancient dwarven war cry. It is settled, they are going to their last battle.

There is just one thing left to do.

Kili gives Fili a long bear-hug and receives one in return. Then turns to Tauriel, raises on tiptoes, cups her face and presses his forehead to hers, not daring to move any further. She seems to understand and kisses him first, it feels hot and desperate. Kili holds her tight because he knows he will probably die today and so will she. She must have sheathed her daggers because her arms wind around his neck and her long fingers bury in his messy hair and she doesn't want to let go even after the kiss is over. Kili realises that the same sad thoughts of likely early demise must be still running through her head.

He expects an angry outburst from Thorin, but his uncle just looks away in what seems to be a mixture of guilt and shame.

It somewhat reminds Kili of the old Thorin he used to know and that’s almost good enough.


	9. One Thousand and One Orcs

The first thing Tauriel notices as Thorin's company opens the gates of Erebor and runs out, ready to face the enemy, is that there are way more orcs than she can reasonably count. The gray ugly mass of them seems to be everywhere, grunting and swarming and smelling of blood and carnage.

She doesn't want to be a downer but now it looks like they are going to be killed for sure.

Nevertheless they will hide no longer. Kili and her shoot arrow after arrow, intent on taking out as many orcs as they can before the battle moves to close range combat; the others wait, their axes and swords bare and ready to take lives, mythril armours shining brightly in the setting sun.

As the enemy becomes nearer and nearer Tauriel briefly wonders if she is the only elf to have ever fought amongst the dwarves. Sure, there have been alliances in the past where both races faced the same enemy but have their people ever stood shoulder to shoulder in the same lines?

And then Tauriel has no time to wonder anymore. She guts and slices, her daggers always in motion. Kili does the same, although he uses a sword. The two of them fight back to back, just like Farin and Dagmar from that legend Kili told her about.

She can only hope they will have a better ending.

***

There are too many orcs. Tauriel must have killed about thirty by now but new ones always come at her. She wonders if the others are doing any better.

"Thorin!" a cry full of anger and pain pierces the air and reaches the elf's ears. "Get away from him, you dogs!"

Apparently they aren't.

If Tauriel remembers correctly King under the Mountain must be fighting somewhere behind her; which means she can't see him but Kili probably can.

Things must not be going well because Kili shouts "I've got to get over to him!" and sounds quite worried.

"Go!" Tauriel yells, trying to be louder than the cries of pain and death rattles. "I will follow!"

She intends to do just that but a giant warg charges right at her and she is forced to jump back. Luckily the beast's claws barely scrape her and Tauriel manages to stick her dagger into its ribcage where the giant heart pumps blood but she has lost time. Now there is some distance between her and Kili. A distance filled with orcs.

It's a small relief that Kili has successfully joined with his uncle and brother. For a brief moment Tauriel can see the three of them fighting with a warg pack. Thorin seem to be covered in blood and Tauriel sincerely hopes it's not his own.

The orcs push at her harder and with more ferocity. For the time-being she manages to fight them off but it takes all of Tauriel's concentration and she cannot know what is happening to Durin's heirs, whether they are still standing or have fallen one by one. This disturbs her. Even in the middle of the battle to the death she must know if Kili is alright or not. Him being alive somehow means the world to her.

***

It doesn't take long before of the three Durins only Kili remains standing. He tries to protect the bodies of his uncle and brother but Tauriel can tell he will not hold long. His opponents are many and his movements betray his tiredness and, perhaps, an injury. Even if the other dwarves notice they are not in a position to come to his aid: everyone is busy fighting their own orcs.

Tauriel never hears a plea for help.

Nevertheless, she should come to his aid.

There are only thirty yards separating her from Kili, but those thirty yards are full of orcs. She will have to clear them all to even get close to her lover.

Her daggers are too short to kill the enemy without coming dangerously close and it is not possible to use the bow when there's barely any distance between her and the orc filth. She needs a swing. She needs range. Tauriel abandons the daggers in favour of a longsword Kili has found for her amongst the treasures of his people.

"Back off, scum, or I will go through you!" she warns, chopping off the first head.

The orcs naturally mock her.

"Desperate she-elf."

Ignore them.

"Weak she-elf."

Ignore them.

"A dwarf-lover."

Keep ignoring them.

"Your head will look prettier on a spear,"  _Don't listen_ , she reminds herself,  _keep fighting_. "Next to the heads of Durin's filth."

That's it! With a high-pitched war cry Tauriel charges at the most talkative orc and slices him in half from shoulder to waist. "You are next!" she growls and the head of another hideous creature parts with his shoulders.

The orcs are tough but Tauriel has a purpose and when she has a purpose nothing can stop her, at least that's what she keeps telling herself. Little by little she makes her way, leaving ugly corpses behind. Blood trickles down her left forearm but she disregards it.

"You came?" Kili actually sounds surprised.

"Of course I came!" Tauriel says through her teeth, her concentration almost entirely on a rathergiant orc who is trying to nail her on a spear. She briefly wonders if his ancestors have bred with trolls. Perhaps she is not far from the truth.

"Fili doesn't answer me anymore," her love tells her over the dull clanking of weapons. "Neither does uncle."

Tauriel notices he is out of breath and probably nearing exhaustion.

Despite the danger of it she spares the dwarves a momentary glance. Thorin is on his stomach, so Tauriel can't see his face, but Fili is on his back, his eyes staring into the darkened sky without actually seeing anything. He will never ever answer his brother.

Tauriel feels a tear forming but quickly shakes her head to get rid of it. She cannot afford not seeing her enemies clearly.

She doesn't have the heart to tell Kili though.

An orc does. Kili freezes for a second and that's all it takes. The next moment the orc drives a jagged blade through Kili's armour and into his chest. Tauriel's love says "Fili" and falls over the dead body of older sibling.

***

Tauriel remembers: back in the cells of Mirkwood he showed her the rune-stone and told her about his promise to return.

He sounded confident, like there was no doubt he would come back, like his mother had nothing to worry about.

***

Tauriel sees red. She hears a desperate howl, something akin to a wail of a she-wolf who lost her entire pack. Only then she realises that the sound comes from the depth of her own lungs as she charges at the orc and cuts his throat. It brings her no relief: she is too late, she failed.

She wants to run to Kili, bend over him. Hold him and tell him everything will be ok, it is just a wound, wounds can be healed, wounds will be healed. But the orcs don't let her. The orcs will kill her, too, the second she lowers her longsword.

She notices that the blood seeps from Kili's wound; it must mean the heart is still beating. One thought is running through Tauriel's head: If she holds on long enough maybe the orcs will all be dead and she will be able to get Kili to the healers. It's not much hope but it's some and she couldn't ask for more. She just has to keep fighting. And that's what Tauriel does until she makes a wrong step and sharp pain in her left leg causes her to lose balance and take a hit of an orc sword to her chest.

The mythril mail does not rip and she avoids an open wound but the hit is so powerful that Tauriel can't breathe for a few seconds. And once she manages to get some air in her lungs there's a new potentially fatal problem: having damaged some tendrils, she can no longer move with her former agility and that means it won't be long before she is either knocked out or killed.

Given that the allies are being overpowered by orcs and wargs, she would prefer the second option. Just like anyone else in the Middle-Earth Tauriel has heard too many stories about what orcs do to those they capture, to women in particular. That fate certainly scares her more than relatively quick death in battle. The only regret she has is that she will not be able to say proper goodbyes, won't be able to have one last moment of piece with the one she loves.

Tauriel wants to scream. She wanted an adventure outside the forest and her adventure will end in death. She should have persuaded Kili to escape with her. He would have considered himself dishonourable but he would be alive. They would both be alive.

The pain is intense but the elf forces herself to move and block the attacks. It would be easy to give up, to let death cradle her and give her peace… But if she dies who will drag Kili from the battlefield? Someone has to get Kili to the medics.

Tauriel fails to dodge another attack and the blow knocks her off her feet.  _This is truly it_ , she thinks. A particularly ugly orc raises a bludgeon over her head…

… and falls with a dull grunt, an elegant elvish arrow right through his eye socket. Tauriel swiftly turns her head to look around and can't hold a cry of happiness. It is Legolas –  _Legolas!_  – who has come to her aid!

"I told you it will not end well!" he barks instead of a greeting.

Tauriel rises to her feet, trying to shift her weigh to her good leg.  _Shut up and help!_  Her eyes say.  _You can lecture me later!_

***

They manage to catch a breath when the eagles come and launch at the orcs from the sky. Tauriel thinks that the battle is finally close to being over but the enemy recovers from the surprise attack and fights back yet again.

She is so incredibly tired…

Tauriel wonders if it is time to shout good-bye to Legolas yet when a mighty roar rolls over the battlefield and makes the orcs step back for a moment. She glances in the direction from which the sound came and freezes in her tracks - a giant black bear stands on a mountain of orc and goblin corpses barely twenty feet from Tauriel and stares at her. Tauriel feels the shivers running down her spine. There's something odd about this beast but she can't put her finger on it.

"Let him through!" Legolas orders, waking Tauriel up from her stupor. "He is here to help."

Tauriel complies and steps aside, giving the creature access to the bodies of Durins. The bear comes forth, sniffs the dwarves then carefully nudges Thorin's motionless form with his neb and gently touches Kili with his paw. Tauriel's eyes widen in awe as she watches the creature cradle the three dwarves in its paws, rising on its back legs and rushing away.

The orcs are gutted that Thorin and his nephews have been snatched from them. They rip and tear in uncontrolled rage and it seems that only the bear's return saves the combined armies of the dwarves, elves and humans. The beast comes back empty-handed and scatters heavy, metal-clad orcs by half-dozens with the blows of his mighty paws. His claws leave mortal wounds. His clasp makes goblins gasp for breath until they no longer need air. Tauriel almost wishes she could watch the beast more without being distracted by her own opponents. Whatever this creature is, he is certainly no ordinary animal but a deadly mysterious force to be reckoned with.

Suddenly the orcs begin to shout as if trying to tell each other something. Tauriel doesn't know their language but there's one word that's being repeated over and over. Bolg.

"Beorn must have killed their leader!" Legolas shouts somewhat joyfully, probably for the benefit of Tauriel.

Beorn? That's Beorn? The skin-shifter Kili told her about back when he was a prisoner and Tauriel was supposed to guard him? She can barely remember their conversations, it was in another life, it was just a dream, a dream where she walked in starlight and hasn't lost him…

The orcs and goblins begin to retreat.

Tauriel can't believe it is finally over.

***

She falls on her knees and coughs blood. Legolas leans over and looks at her with genuine concern. "You seem to be rather injured," he remarks.

Legolas just wouldn't be Legolas if he didn't state the obvious.

"I'm fine, I don't care," Tauriel wipes her mouth with her sleeve. A matter of habit, really, because her sleeve is literally soaked with blood and so the action doesn't help at all. "I need to see Kili! Do you know where Beorn took him?"

"I wouldn't know, probably to the healers," Legolas shakes his head. "You need medical attention."

"I need to see him!" she struggles to her feet, using the sword as support. "Now."

"You can barely walk!"

Still stating the obvious. Tauriel wants to swear at the Prince and cry. It takes a lot of effort to restrain herself. It is not his fault. None of it is his fault.

"I will crawl if I friggin' need to!" she says through her teeth as she takes a few not so careful steps. The pain in her ankle intensifies and she tries to ignore it but has little success.

Legolas sighs and squats in front of her. "Get on my back!" he orders.

She winds her trembling arms around his neck and he staggers across the battlefield, carrying her in silence towards perky green tents which the elvish healers have erected.

***

"The dark-haired dwarf is being attended to," a healer tells her. "We are doing all we can."

"Can I see him?" Tauriel pleads, tears running down her cheeks and mixing with blood and grime.

"No," the healer's voice is firm. "You will be in the way."

And he disappears inside the tent, sealing the flap behind him.

***

Another healer would not treat Tauriel at first. He mutters something about traitors and Thranduil's orders and Legolas has to shout to make him do the work. This has the desired effect: the perplexed elf reluctantly assesses Tauriel's internal damages and says she will be fine if she rests. He treats the wounds with antiseptic extracts and says that everything else can be done later. She doesn't argue. Indeed the medics must have more heavily wounded to attend to and she will not die from a twisted ankle now that the battle is over.

She wants to ask if she can die of a broken heart, but bites her tongue. She should not speak as if Kili is dead already. He is not dead! He is just teasing death. Coming close to it, like he always does, and running away the very last minute. He should live, he will live! Tauriel didn't come from the battlefield for anything less than that.

"Here, drink this," Legolas puts a flask into her hands.

She opens it and takes a few sips without thinking. The next second her insides burn like she swallowed fire.

"What is this?" Tauriel demands wearily. "It was disgusting!"

"You are shivering," Legolas offers. "And not from the cold."

He is right again. Tauriel hugs herself and utters a very quiet thank you.

***

It is a long wait full of agony, terrible thoughts and dangerous what-ifs.

What if she never met Kili?

What if she loved Legolas?

What if Legolas never found her (and Kili) on the battlefield?

She could be happy now, she realises, if she weren't in love. But she did talk to a certain dwarf and he did take Tauriel's heart with him when he left Mirkwood even if he didn't know it back then; and if he goes now he will take it again and Tauriel will not be able to reclaim it even if she goes out there and lives her long life full of adventures and starlight and fire-moons...

The healer who has previously shooed her away comes out of the tent, followed by his assistants. Tauriel doesn't have the nerve to ask the question and Legolas has to do it for her.

"Your friend lost a lot of blood and his lung has been pierced which is never good," the healer explains in a tired voice, "but the blade was not poisoned, which makes a big difference. We patched him up and hopefully he should recover. Estel is still inside, dressing some of the lighter wounds. He will tell you more in a while."

Tauriel hides her face in her hands and sobs in relief and shame.

She thinks about Kili, the one who lived. And she thinks about Fili, the one who wasn't so lucky, the one she couldn't protect.

Legolas bends over her and squeezes her shoulder in a reassuring fashion. "Maybe I was wrong," he says. "Maybe this can end well although it will definitely not be easy". She raises her eyes for a second and sees him smiling weakly. "Don't worry, if they say the dwarf should live he has no other choice. You know our healers hate to be wrong. Now, I will go find my father. I heard a lot of ridiculous stories. Something about you killing me and what not. Honestly, the things he comes up with…"

Legolas can't finish the sentence because Tauriel hugs him with all her heart. She finally realises that all this time the Prince wanted to be a friend, not a lover. However engulfed she might be in her sorrow and pain, she still finds the capacity to feel ashamed. She's been blind, silly and too quick to assume. She will have to apologise to him later.

The healer – Estel – comes out and Tauriel's heart beats faster with anticipation. Estel. Hope. What a great name that is. He can't be bringing her bad news, not after everything that has happened.

Estel tells her Kili is unconscious but she can come in and see the dwarf for a few minutes. Tauriel chooses to disregard the disapproving undertone in the healer's voice. It is none of her concern if he doesn't like dwarves,  _she_  does. Feeling like she's been reborn, Tauriel takes a deep breath and limps inside the tent.

"I'd wash myself first," the elf mutters disapprovingly.

He is probably right but Tauriel pretends she didn't hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In The Hobbit Beorn comes to the rescue in his bear form and carries Thorin away from the battlefield, then returns and kills the leader of the orcs/goblins. Now I have _no idea_ how he'd manage to carry Thorin anywhere in his bear form but who am I to argue with Tolkien? I thought he should take Fili and Kili too, though.
> 
> The decision to let Fili die was a hard one, because I love Fili loads and I was really enjoying his interactions with Kili and Tauriel. But hopefully you will see later why for the purpose of this story it had to be done. Nevertheless, my heart weeps for him. Fili, you will be missed.


	10. Uncle Thorin

"I was a fool," Thorin says.

His lips hardly move and the confession is barely audible. Admitting to one's mistakes is not easy.

Also he is dying. This never helps.

The elf stands by the entrance, unsure of what to say.

"I was a fool," he repeats louder this time. "Come closer. I have a lot to apologise for and I haven't got much time."

Tauriel takes a few hesitant steps towards his bed. Thorin muses on how she was fearless in front of a horde of orcs but seems to be wary of a mortally wounded dwarf King.

"I have not been kind to you," he admits. "Or fair."

"That doesn't matter now," the voice of Kili's lass sounds very sad.

"Oh, it does.  _Now_  it matters more than ever. My younger nephew lives."

"That's what the healers say. But he is unconscious and most likely will remain so for a while."

"I know. I cannot see him and he'd not recognise me," speaking hurts and Thorin tries to make shorter sentences. "I have no time. You will speak for me."

Tauriel swallows and nods.

Thorin knows very well what he wants to say: he had enough time to think while Gandalf was looking for the elf so he goes straight to the point. "Tell Kili I took a young foolish boy on the quest. Tell him a man is born when he stands up for what he believes in. He will understand. Tell him he is a man I am proud of."

"I will," the lass looks stunned but he doesn't have time to explain in detail.

"Tell him I'm sorry," continues King under the Mountain. "I was wrong. I could not see past my prejudices. He saw everything, he chose you, he chose well. Tell him he has my blessing."

Is his vision beginning to fail him or is elf's lower lip quivering? Thorin can't be sure.

"Now I'm talking to you, Tauriel of Mirkwood. I have slighted you and I was wrong. You are good. You are honourable. If I were to live I would gladly welcome you as my niece. Will you forgive me, be it for myself or for my nephew?"

"I forgive you," Tauriel says quickly. She looks like she is on the verge of a breakdown and, frankly, she just might be. The lass went through a lot. Thorin wonders if she slept at all since they all came from the battlefield.

"Thank you," he says. Black is beginning to cloud his vision and he knows his time is running out. "Go in peace, Queen under the Mountain. I have one more friend to see."

Tauriel quickly bends over him and, much to Thorin's surprise, kisses his forehead. There are tears in her eyes.

"I wish we were speaking under different circumstances," she says, her voice hoarse but firm. "Rest in peace, uncle. I will do as you say."


	11. The Crown Not Taken

Kili of the main Durin line asks him to come and Dain Ironfoot of the Misty Mountains is eager to oblige. There is a lot of confusion amongst their people. A lot of confusion leads to a lot of speculation and a lot of speculation leads to trouble. They do not need another war. Things should be set straight as soon as possible.

Truth be told, the only heir of the main Durin line doesn’t look so good. He can barely sit up and his skin looks almost as pale as the sheets he is lying on. Dain thinks a couple of decades back when he visited Dis in Ered Luin and saw two happy radiant urchins. He cannot hold a heavy sigh: those young ones are no more.

“I know, I don’t look my best,” Kili agrees.

Dain tries to console him. “Health will come back. You just have to give it time.”

“Of that I have plenty,” the dwarf mutters, “thanks to Beorn and elves.”

Ironfoot grabs a chair for himself and sits down. “Listen, I want to talk about some rumours that have been going around.”

Kili nods weakly.

“Yes, those,” he says. “That I am too young, too reckless. That I know nothing about politics. That I will put Erebor under the influence of elves. That you will be _better King_.”

Yes, those rumours. Dain hates to break it to Kili but his concerns are not unfounded. The majority of dwarves here at Erebor are used to seeing Dain as their leader and they find it hard to accept that another dwarf – not even Thorin himself but his youngest, least experienced nephew – might rule.

“I do not support such views,” Dain admits, “however I will not deceive you by saying they do not exist. Dwarves are conflicted, but that’s natural. However if I give them a strong statement that you shall become King and I will return to the Misty Mountains we should be able to put most of these speculations to rest. But we better do it soon.”

“Aye, about that,” Thorin’s boy looks the old Ironfoot in the eye and there’s no hostility in his gaze, only tiredness. “Dain, you should be King. It’s true what they say. I am young and inexperienced and my chosen one is an elf and I do not intend to leave her.”

“It is true you are young,” the older dwarf says, “and were raised a warrior rather than a ruler. But you can learn the art of politics, my friend. It’s an art I had to learn, too.”

An elf for a chosen one though? Dain isn’t sure about that.

Kili shakes his head. “ _That_ is not the problem. I know our people,” he says. “They will not bow to an elven Queen. And even if they did there would probably be no heir. It would not bode well for them. A fight for the throne will begin after my death if not sooner.”

He is right, Dain realises. Oakenshield’s boy is painfully right. He cannot have his lass and his throne. What he offers to Dain is probably the best solution to a difficult situation. He gets to be with the she-elf and Erebor gets what seems to be a decent leader. But it feels wrong to take the kingdom from the main line of Durin.

“You must really love her,” Dain remarks.

 “Words can’t describe how much I do,” a small smile that appears when Kili is talking about his elf really lights up his face. “So take the kingdom before other lines will try to put a claim to it. I will concede to you properly and with honour.”

Ironfoot gives him a long pensive look.

“You are a wonder, Kili, son of Dis, sister-son of Thorin,” he ponders out loud. “You have Oakenshield’s determination and drive, yet you do not share his folly or greed. There’s a lot of your mother in you. Again I say that you would make a good ruler. Erebor would flourish under your hand. But I see your stance and I will not argue with you.”

“Promise me you will rule Erebor well,” Kili says quietly. “Promise me you will uphold justice and always have interests of our people at heart.”

Dain smiles. “You have my word,” he holds out a hand and Kili shakes it, his grip surprisingly strong for someone so unwell. “A word of one King to another.” 

***

 At first glance the coronation ceremony is plain and simple: Kili gives up the crown, Dain accepts it, then pays tribute to the Durins of the main line and there – most dwarves are happy and appeased with the prospect of stability and a good _dwarven_ royal family.

Beneath the surface things are a little more complex.

Tauriel attends with the Mirkwood delegation. She watches the whole thing from the side and never comes forward but a lot of eyes gaze on her when Kili explains the reasons behind his decision. Dwarves speak of her in hushed whispers. Some disapprove, some speak with understanding and some express sympathy towards the red-haired elf. She stands tall and seemingly unaffected while Kili’s choice is being vividly discussed and Dain gives credit to her composure. She could have made a marvelous Queen under the Mountain if only she were a dwarf.

But Tauriel is an elf. A decent one, one that has fought beside the dwarves and helped them, but nevertheless an elf.

Dain still finds it hard to believe that Oakenshield’s boy is giving up an entire kingdom for her.

He also is sure glad he loves a woman of his own kind. Things are much easier this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize for disappearing for so long! Things were extremely busy over the last few weeks. And now Christmas is approaching and so is my long-anticipated trip to Dublin. I am very excited but this means that another update probably won’t come until January.   
> I know this is quite a short chapter but there really isn’t much I wanted to see from Dain’s perspective. Apologies to anyone who thought Kili and Tauriel would get a shot at being King and Queen under the mountain but I’d rather explore them as two lovers having a lot of freedom  Besides, I do not think dwarves would be thrilled to have an elven Queen. I have some plans to explore the shift in relations between the two races in a follow-up chapter though.  
> Also you might think that I’ve somewhat cheated and there is a missing chapter. “Hey, Kundze Melna,” you might want to say, “why don’t we get to see Kili waking up with Tauriel by his side?” This chapter is indeed missing and it will be the last chapter of the main story. You will see why.  
> Thank you all for reading, commenting and generally sticking with the story, I love you all and you make me happy. Coming up next – Thranduil and his rants.


	12. Pride and Immortality

It is a relief to see Legolas alive and unharmed.  
In fact, the sight of his blood-stained son making his way through the crowd renders Thranduil so happy that he spreads his arms wide open and gives the Prince a hug and a pat on the back. Never mind the ruined gown, Thranduil has another three hundred of these.  
Their reunion makes the Elvenking somewhat lightheaded and he feels like he could almost forgive Tauriel for her transgressions.  
Almost, but not quite.  
***  
The truth is, she was always Thranduil’s favourite.  
There, he said it. The Elvenking has spoken.  
For six hundred years he has favoured this lowly Sylvan child, protected her, let his son keep her company. She was welcome at every feast he threw. She trained with the best fighters Mirkwood had to offer, sometimes even with Thranduil himself. The old teachers who used to take care of Legolas’ educational needs made sure she got her share of refinement. He trusted her with his kingdom’s safety and has often defended her worth as a captain of the border guards to those who pointed out she was too young for this position...  
Tauriel threw it all away for a mortal. Not even for a human, mind you, but for a dwarf, the pitiful nephew of the pitiful Thorin Oakenshield, may he rest in peace.  
Tauriel could have had everything. Well, not Legolas, but she could have had everything else. If only she hadn’t run off after some stupid dwarven brat!  
Well, at least Legolas is now safe from an unsuitable marriage, but…  
He doesn’t get it! Thranduil. Just. Doesn’t. Get it.  
What is wrong with the elven ways? Aren’t they the best in the whole of Middle-Earth? Isn’t is wise to put oneself before others? Isn’t it great to be immortal, to watch centuries flick by and the generations of dwarves and men fade into nothingness while they, elves, just get better and better? Thranduil has seen the First Age. Even then the mortals were just… mortals. Nothing more, nothing less. Live fast, die young, that’s what they always have been about.  
Thranduil sees great beauty in deliberation. There’s no need to hurry. There’s no place for love at first sight. There’s no decision he’s made on a whim, ever.  
A silly girl chose to defy everything the Elvenking believes in.  
And his son followed.  
The taste of betrayal has never been so bitter.  
***  
Thranduil has known his son for centuries; he can tell when Legolas is lying with next to no effort.  
“It was my decision to spy on the orcs,” the Prince maintains stubbornly. It is not the first conversation they are having on the subject and yet his words never change. “They were too many, it didn’t feel right. Trouble was brewing and I felt like I had to do something. Tauriel had nothing to do with it.”  
“You were foolish,” Thranduil says. “And you are being foolish now if you think I will believe you. Tauriel went, so you had to go, too.”  
Legolas crosses his arms. “Father, you can believe anything you want, it makes no difference. I have seen the way. I refuse to live in the shadow of darkness and I will strive to fight it wherever I can.”  
Thranduil sighs. His boy is so much older than Tauriel and yet he is just as stupid. Children. Why do they care about the world all of a sudden? Why do they want to be someone’s heroes so badly?  
“Don’t talk nonsense. You belong here, in Mirkwood,” the Elvenking reminds his son.  
“I belong with the rest of the world,” the Prince rebuffs, clearly irritated.  
***  
The King decides that he will not punish the traitor, at least not in a conventional way. Legolas has indicated clearly he will not stand for it. Besides, Tauriel has saved the last of the damned Durin line. Useless stupid dwarf he may be, but saving him somewhat makes Tauriel a hero in the eyes of other dwarves. They may not like her but they respect what she did and they would probably stand up for her if the need came. Thranduil doesn’t want to cause another war just because he wants to retaliate on one elf.  
But he cannot forgo the twisted pleasure of telling the redhead she can never return to Mirkwood. She wanted her dwarf – very well, she will have to stick with him and his kind until the end of her life. The Elvenking hopes that with time it will become punishment enough. Dwarves are loud, greedy and unrefined. They also have terrible beards and Thranduil has heard there’s actually hair all over their body. Hair! All over their bodies! Gross. It should only take Tauriel a few years to see the terrible mistake she’s made.  
The former captain bears the news of her banishment well. “Thank you, Your Majesty” is all she says. Perhaps, the news just haven’t sunk in yet.  
“I’m not your King,” Thranduil reminds her, probably a little more harshly than necessary.  
“Thank you even more.”  
***  
Thranduil thinks she will give up eventually. Crawl back and ask him to take her in, confess her foolishness, tell him the elven ways are the only ways…  
He will refuse her, of course. She does not deserve the life of an elf after giving it up.  
But day goes after day and Tauriel never asks and the King has no satisfaction.  
***  
The dirty dwarf runs from his responsibilities and gives up the crown. Probably not the worst idea: Thranduil heard he is reckless and gets into trouble way more than a reasonable creature would. Good riddance, really. Having him as the King of the neighbouring lands would not be Tharnduil’s favourite experience. As far as he is concerned, dwarves shouldn’t rule at all, but if they must have a King, he better be someone old and wise, not someone who doesn’t even know not to flirt beyond his own race. There must be order and this Kili of the Durin line is pure loud mess and chaos.  
As Tauriel watches the coronation, standing at the back of a grand hall, listening to every word Kili speaks, Thranduil observes her discretely.  
Although, truth be told, he could be staring wide on, and the redhead would hardly notice – she is too bewildered to pay proper attention to those around her.  
Thranduil notices the change in her hair style. It is still largely loose with a few braids holding Tauriel’s locks in place but the plating is different and there are beads in it. He resists the temptation to utter a cold hurtful remark. It has only been a month since the Battle of Five Armies and Tauriel is already turning all dwarven! What’s next? She is going to grow a beard? Oh Valar, why have you turned a blind eye to Thranduil’s misery?  
Legolas gently elbows him. “Father, you are staring.”  
“Am not.”  
“You are!”  
“Am not! And you are mean!”  
The Prince rolls his eyes and goes back to watching the ceremony. Tauriel remains unaware of their exchange, silent tears in her eyes. When everything is finally over, she disappears quietly and Thranduil only rediscovers her a few minutes later. She is whispering something to her dwarf and whatever it is, it puts a gentle smile on both of their faces.  
Ugh, keep it private! The Elvenking would like to not throw up, thank you very much.  
***  
He tries, he really does. Sometimes he thinks that he has nearly succeeded but resistance always proves to be futile – what elf eyes have seen cannot be unseen.  
And Thranduil has seen an elf choosing a dwarf. Thranduil has seen the elf happy with the dwarf. Happier, in fact, than the elf has ever been.  
He is truly old. The world has truly changed. He doesn’t need Galadriel to tell him that.  
Thranduil closes his tired eyes and listens to the buzz of life around him.  
The time of the elves must be coming to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, you are all amazing! Honestly, I am very touched with your responses. So I tried extra hard to deliver this chapter before Christmas and NY. Hope you will enjoy it – writing it was actually quite hard as I do love kiliel and it was difficult to pretend to be someone who doesn’t.  
> Thranduil really does not cope well with change.   
> PS On that note – happy holidays and see you all in the new year.  
> PPS My boyfriend booked tickets to BotFA, we are watching it this Sunday. I’m looking forward to it more than Thorin was looking forward to finding Arkenstone. Also it will be interesting to see how many themes I’ve managed to guess.


	13. Lassie, Come Home

Her youngest son returns alone and before he summons the courage to speak Dis already knows that he is bringing her sad, sad news.

Her brother will never return.

Neither will her eldest son.

"They died with honour, Ma," Kili says, wrapping his big strong arms around her shaking form. "They must have slayed a couple of hundred orcs before they fell."

Dis cries for a while and when she raises her eyes at her only remaining son she notices that he has been crying, too. She doesn't let go of him for a long, long time.

"Did you see them?" she asks greedily. "Did you see them fall?"

"I did, Ma, as the three of us fought side by side. I was there when they fell and I nearly fell with them".

Dis gives him a bear-hug. "At least you have returned," she says finally.

Kili shrugs. "It was a close call. But the elves did their best and while I keep some scars I also get to keep my life."

Dis snorts. She doesn't like the idea of owing those stuck up elves for anything, even if it's her son's life.

"In fact," Kili continues, "there is one particular elf who saved me four times!"

He eyes Dis for a while, hesitation evident in his gaze. Finally he draws back from her and lets out what's been on his mind for a long time.

"Ma, I have to tell you something. Promise you won't be mad."

***

Oh, Dis  _is_  mad. Dis is so mad that her wrath could boil that massive lake by the side of the Lonely Mountain and there would still be enough left for the bloomin' river Running!

Dis is mad at her son like she has never been mad before.

Sure, he kept his word and came back to her but he was now married to an elven lass! Now  _that_  was  _never_  part of the promise!

Also she is really, really mad at the elven skunk.

She demands an explanation.

"This is what I wanted," Kili says. Now that he has let the secret out he is no longer hesitant.

In fact, he has the audacity to look like he's done the right thing and it is Dis who is in the wrong with her reaction!

"And where is she now?" The dwarrowdam hisses. "Back with her kin? Embarrassed of you  _already_? What kind of marriage is that?"

"No, she is here, she is staying at the inn! She thought I might want to tell you without her being around."

Well, at least the elf is not stupid and knows she will not be welcome here after she has seduced a poor innocent dwarf.

"Uncle gave us his blessing," her son reminds her.

But Dis will not be easily defeated.

"And you never heard it with your own ears. For all I know, your elf might have lied. Thorin that I knew would have never agreed to this marriage."

" _He_  didn't have to agree," Kili points out. " _I_  was of age and could marry whoever  _I_  wanted without his consent."

"Fine, you didn't need his consent but he still would not have given his blessing."

Awkward silence hangs in the air.

"Just give it a chance, Ma," Kili looks at her with the eyes he always made as a child when he wanted something he was not supposed to have. "Tauriel is not like the elves you are thinking of."

"All elven rascals are the same!" Dis says loftily. But Kili continues with the eyes and her heart somewhat softens. "Fine, bring her for dinner. I will be on my best behavior."

***

Dis promised to be polite but it is hard not to stare.

Her daughter-in-law comes with golden beads in her hair and elaborate dwarven braids. Dis reckons Kili must have spent at least an hour braiding these but they look impeccable and she is secretly admiring her son's work.

Also the elf is very tall. She stands next to Kili as they are being introduced and while Dis' son is of an impressive height for a dwarf, the top of his messy hair is just under the girl's chin. Neither her, nor Kili seem to care in the slightest.

Her name is Tauriel, Dis reminds herself. She must try and call her that. She is family now, whether Dis likes it or not. She tries her best to give Tauriel a smile. It probably comes out fake.

The dinner goes fairly well. The dishes served are simple but hearty. Kili is the most talkative one. He is obviously happy to be back home. Well, as happy as someone who recently lost a beloved brother and uncle can be.

Dis doesn't talk much. The news she heard earlier take time to absorb and stomach.

Her brother and her eldest son are dead and buried in Erebor. Erebor is free from Smaug and will be rebuilt in all its former glory. Her only living son is married to an elf and they didn't even throw a party. He also gave up his kingship.

The latter makes sense. As the only living heir of the main line of Durin Kili would have to find a suitable wife who would bear him children. Elven maids hardly count as suitable and no one knows if they can bear children to dwarves; their races are rather different, after all.

There are so many levels on which the dwarrowdam could object to Tauriel. She is not of their kind and she will probably never abide fully by dwarven traditions and customs while Kili would have to take some of her elven ways. She might be unable to give Kili children and it is probable Dis will have no little ones to look after. She is not beautiful by their standards, although – Dis has to admit it – Tauriel is pleasant to look at, especially when she smiles. Most of the neighbours would laugh at them and call her son an elf-lover. And because of this girl Kili will never ever be King under the Mountain.

But Kili has told her how Tauriel had left her whole world behind in order to save him from the orcs' poison and then fought in the Battle of Five Armies, ready to die protecting Fili and Thorin's bodies and Kili's life.

She must really love him to have done this. And if that's the case she can be an orc and Dis will still welcome her as daughter and pick a fight with every neighbor who will say a bad word about her.

"It would make me very happy if the two of you stay here at least for a while," Dis states when they are done with main courses.

Kili glances at Tauriel and she gives him a slight nod in return.

"Sure, mum," he says then. "We wanted to travel a fair bit but it's nice to rest first. Also I have missed you greatly and Tauriel wants to see more of our folk."

"Excellent! Kili, why don't you go upstairs and look for a room that's good for both of you? Your old one is a bit too small, methinks. I will fetch you bed sheets and everything a little later."

He gets the hint and leaves the women alone.

It is Dis who breaks the silence.

"I really meant it when I said I would like  _both_  of you to stay".

"And for that," Tauriel replies, "I am grateful."

"I may not be the happiest mother-in-law right now," Dis admits, "but you've got to understand. It's nothing personal. I am trying. I am sure I will get to like you eventually."

"Both my parents are gone," Tauriel offers, "and I don't have any other kin, so it doesn't matter now but I'm sure they would not have been too happy either."

Dis thinks about her words then reaches for her pipe.

"Care for a smoke?" she asks her daughter-in-law.

"No, thank you. But I would like to try one day".

"No pressure," Dis lights the pipe. "You will probably see a lot of weird things here. Where were you from? Mirkwood?"

Tauriel nods.

"Was it hard to leave?"

"Not really," the elf admits. "I lived there for six hundred years and can't say I was terribly excited. And home is not a place anyway. It's where the heart is."

With that Dis couldn't agree more. Hers is here. She enjoys her pipe and Tauriel looks around, studying the living rom. The silence is less uncomfortable now.

Kili comes back with three large mugs. One of them is balanced on his head.

"Mum's finest ale," he explains to Tauriel. "Ma, do you mind?"

Oh, Dis is all up for it.

"You seem like a fine lass," she tells Tauriel as they finish the fourth round. "I think I'm starting to like you already."

Tauriel grins at the dwarrowdam. "You are not so bad yourself. Alcohol certainly helps."

Kili beams happily at their words.

***

Dis gradually comes to a conclusion that she enjoys having Tauriel around. Not just as her daughter-in-law, someone who was good enough to be chosen by her son, but as a fellow being.

The dwarrowdam has not met many outsiders in her life. She was not expected to participate in politics when Erebor was her home so she never got to know the elves and humans who used to come to the halls of Thror as ambassadors. Then the fiery beast came and they had to run, make a new life somewhere. Thorin and Frerin became particularly distrustful of outsiders after the Mirkwood King refused to help them; they made sure their little sister and her own small family was kept safe among the dwarves…

Dis thinks it's nice to be able to talk to someone whose experiences are so vastly different from her own.

She tells Tauriel of those horrifying days when she and her late husband wandered the scorched plains of Middle-Earth with two little children they've had not so long ago. Fili was nearly old enough to understand that something was terribly wrong and that everyone was frightened and grieving. Kili, on the other hand, thought everything to be exciting and praised the adventure.

"I am not surprised," Tauriel sighs. "Fili always seemed like a more reasonable one."

The statement somewhat catches Dis off guard - she's forgotten that Tauriel knew Fili, too.

"What else did you think of him?" the dwarrowdam asks.

Tauriel sighs again.

"I didn't know him  _that_  well," she mutters. "I mean, there were so many things going on and I was just getting to know Kili… But he seemed… good. Honest. Very loyal to his brother. Very just. He was probably the first friend I made among the dwarves.

"Not my other son?" Dis seeks to clarify, puzzled.

This time the elf smiles.

"Well, Kili was… special in each and every way. It probably seemed weird to a lot of people how quickly our relationship has progressed but being around him just felt right, no matter what he did or what he said. It's like we were not friends who just met but friends who got reunited after a lifetime."

"Soulmates?" Dis offers.

Tauriel nods. "Something like that." She looks at the mantelpiece where a small painting of the brothers sits. "But Fili was my first dwarven friend," she repeats. "And I do miss him."

Dis looks at the portrait, too. She always had two boys, always punished both of them, tucked in both of them, scolded and loved both of them… And now there's only one left.

"That makes two of us," she says somewhat somberly.

"Three, Ma," Kili walks into the room, all dirty from the hours of work in the forgery. "Sometimes I even play this game called  _What Would Fili Say_  in my head. Wish I could talk to the real him though."

"We have to make do with what we have, I'm afraid," Dis has to remind her youngest.

"It's his birthday soon," Kili says emphatically.

Tauriel catches on, as always. "We should do something." Kili shoots her a grateful look and tries to settle next to her but she is not happy. "Go wash yourself first, you will make everything dirty."

Kili tries to protest. "But Tauriel, I haven't seen you all day!"

However, his wife is not persuaded. "Then you will have no problem waiting for another quarter of an hour."

"Cruel woman," he mutters, getting up reluctantly. "I should have married that blond friend of yours instead."

Tauriel pinches her nose. "For the last time, Legolas is a man and he would not be allowed to marry a dwarf even if he wanted to."

Kili pretends to be disappointed. "No one wants the poor unloved dwarven lad the way he is. He has to take showers and he can't even get the elven Prince. Woe is Kili!"

Tauriel gives him  _The Look_.

"You know what?" she purrs. "I will take pity on the poor unloved dwarven lad and join him in the tub. I will even scrub his back if he promises to do something for me in return."

Kili is all ears. "And what would that be?"

Tauriel leans closer, pushes Kili's locks away and whispers something into his ear. Dis' son goes red in the face and Dis can't help but laugh – she was a married woman once, she knows all of these games.

"Well, I've been a very dirty dwarf," Kili winks suggestively, grinning like a cat who managed to sneak into a cellar full of meats and sour cream.

"Indeed you were." Tauriel rises to her feet. Her eyes shine with mischief and desire. "And we better take care of this right now."

***

They stay in the Blue Mountains for a good fifteen months. No kids, just like Dis suspected, but life goes on. Kili learns smithcraft, Tauriel hunts and sells game at the market. Her skills of an archer are truly impressive and quite a few neighbours' kids admit to wanting to be like her in that respect. Most of the neighbourhood generally learns to accept her and she does make a fewfriendhips and picks up a lot of Khuzdul words.

Dis throws a feast every now and again, invites some friends. They eat and drink 'till no one is sober, then sing and dance and tell jokes and stories in between. Kili with his joyful character always loves a gathering and Tauriel seems to enjoy them, too. She dances well and sings even better and whenever the company sits down to enjoy a pipe Kili always throws an arm around her and tries to steal a kiss whenever he can. Dis observes them from the corner of her eye and glows with pride.

Occasionally some newcomer calls Kili an elf-lover or wonders why he would marry Tauriel when she has no beard at all and that's when Dis gets all protective over her children.

"What's your problem?" she huffs, looking like she could slay a dragon all by herself. "Jealous that no elf maid wanted any of  _your_  sons? And lay off my lass – she is finer than your daughters would ever be, beard or no beard!"

Kili tells her not to worry about such things. "Ma, it's ok. We decided we couldn't care less a long time ago."

"Indeed, Dis," Tauriel backs him up on the matter, as always. "We know we can't please everyone so we are not even trying."

And with that she blows a perfectly good ring of smoke from her pipe, just like a good dwarven lass would do. It never stops amazing Dis just how well her daughter-in-law is adapting. She mentions it to Kili when it's just the two of them in the house, Tauriel having gone out to meet a friend, and Kili agrees wholeheartedly.

"Aye, she is brilliant, Ma. She has this thirst for life, she wants to see everything and try everything. And it comes naturally to her. Can't believe she was stuck at Mirkwood all these years. I spent there about three weeks, methinks, and I nearly went crazy."

"Aye," Dis teases him, "but she must have gone crazy if she married you."

"Hey, Ma!" Kili pretends to be hurt. "Don't say that or else I might think you love her more than you love me!"

"And maybe I do, son," Dis' voice is mocking, but she ruffles his hair lovingly.

***

The spring arrives and with it comes the month of April in which Fili would have turned eighty four.

The family doesn't explicitly discuss what is to happen on the day of his birthday but it is not necessary. As the sun begins to set the three of them head to the garden, bearing gifts for the one they will always remember.

Tauriel has gathered flowers. "I know he liked the colour yellow," she explains as she is weaving them into a garland. "It is warm and jolly and brightens up the day, just like he did."

Kili takes out his violin and plays a sad but beautiful melody. Dis hums softly to the tune, having recognized the song, and Tauriel just listens.

"Fili was the king of parties and all things loud but he really liked these ballads," Kili recalls after he has finished. "He had an open heart and could appreciate both joy and sadness, light and dark, new and familiar."

Dis leaves out a blueberry pie – Fili's favourite – for the birds to eat. "He always liked to share," she says, a tear streak glistening on her cheek. "Would have given his last shirt to a man in need."

The three of them stand in silence as the birds peck the cake, each reflecting on what Fili was and would have been to them. A son, a friend, a brother; someone to share the joy and the sadness with; someone to watch and love as he grows old and makes his own life…

The sun is gone and the sky shines crimson for the last time before turning dark. Tauriel shivers slightly at the cold breeze and Kili takes her hand and gently tugs her in the direction of the house. Dis picks up a now empty plate and follows the couple.

"This was nice," she admits when they are back inside the house and have settled in front of the fireplace. "We should do this for Thorin, too."

***

Days are mostly happy, but not always. There are times when Dis and Kili mourn their dead. There are times when Tauriel can't pretend that evil isn't creeping back into this world any time soon. There are times when they argue and plates fly but they make it through, strong and united.

Kili's facial hair is growing much faster now and he is always careful to trim it and keep it neat. Tauriel teases him and says it's fine, she will love him regardless of the length of his beard (as long as it doesn't sweep the floor). But Kili is not entire persuaded. "Gotta be careful with an elven wife," he says. "Now, if you'd love me to learn the ways of the harp…"

"Don't you dare with the harp!" The elven wife shouts in protest. "I hate the harp! It was the most boring part of Thranduil's receptions!"

"What," Kili teases, "worse than being courted by his son?"

Tauriel huffs in exasperation.

"For the love of Valar, Legolas was  _not_  courting me! Why are you fixating on him anyway? Did you fancy him, too?" something odd burns in her auburn eyes but Dis can't quite put her finger on it. "Fili told me all about how you hit on the lads of Rivendell! You must have fancied him!"

Dis always finds their exchanges very interesting. What was that about Kili flirting with Elrond's people?

"I thought they were ladies!" Kili tries to defend himself. "It's not my fault male elves look like girls!"

"They do not look like girls! The differences are very obvious!"

"Yeah," Dis' boy laughs, "and they can keep saying that to themselves until they believe it. But the rest of the world is not convinced."

"You are insufferable. I should have never let you escape from prison," Tauriel concludes.

"Well," Kili crosses his arms and stands tall and proud in the middle of the living room. "Sounds like you would just love to be in a position where you can have your way with me, wouldn't you?"

The elf looks offended for a second and Dis is about to smack some manners into her son's brainless head. But Tauriel grins at him, winks at Dis and says "I would, actually. What do you say now?"

He swallows visibly and says nothing.

"Too scared, pretty dwarf boy?" Tauriel mocks. "I was right, there was never a need to search your trousers."

Kili snorts like she said the most ridiculous thing in the history of forever. "That's not what you said  _last night_. And you are  _on_."

A moment later they disappear upstairs.

Dis has to make an effort not to laugh out loud. They might be of different races but the two of them remind her so much of her late husband and herself.

They are doing well, all things considered.

***

They stay with Dis for fifteen months but all good things must come to an end sooner or later. Tauriel is eager to venture farther, to the lands she has only ever heard of, and Kili would of course like to accompany her.

"I still don't like elves," Dis admits, having given them both what feels like a million hugs, "but you are alright."

Tauriel doesn't take offence. She gives Dis a playful wink and says "You are not so bad either. I will miss you." And she gives Dis one final bear-hug before mounting her horse.

Oh, Dis will miss her, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw the movie and I am still incredibly sad. There was a silver lining though, that is, the intensity of actual kiliel moments. They were far beyond whatever I dared to expect and for that I will always love PJ. Just replaying those in my head makes me cry. I don't want to spoil it for anyone so go watch it and remember to bring a box of tissues, maybe two.
> 
> I felt like I really-really-really needed to write/read something happy about the two of them and hence this chapter.
> 
> Also I realized I might have been a bit harsh on Thranduil. I will try to address it later. And seeing Dain made me wish I've made his chapter bigger. He just seems pretty awesome.
> 
> I think Dis would initially be furious with Kili's choice but would learn to see past her prejudice and accept Tauriel because initially she wouldn't want to ruin her relationship with her only son left and also eventually she would see that Tauriel is one decent person indeed.


	14. The Bearable Lightness of Being

The Blue Mountains are nowhere near on the way to his destination but something brings Legolas here anyway. One might say it is destiny, others may object that the reason is in fact his poor knowledge of local geography. At any rate the Prince decides to make the best out of his detour – he goes to see an old friend.

Finding that old friend proves to be rather easy. All he has to do is ask a few merchants about a dwarf named Kili, nephew of late Thorin Oakenshield (may he rest in peace), married to an elf. The last part always seems to trigger recognition from the local folk.

Unfortunately, the directions to Tauriel’s house come with a large serving of ridiculous questions on the side. The dwarves sure like an opportunity to gossip.

“Are you here to take her back to Mirkwood?”

“Is there finally going to be a proper wedding celebration?”

“Are you Tauriel’s father?”

“Her mother?”

“Her brother?”

“Her former lover?”

“Did you come to fight her husband?”

The last one comes from a young-looking lad who nevertheless has already sprouted a decent beard and sideburns.

Legolas rolls his eyes. Wherever he goes, it is always the same. _You love Tauriel and blah-blah-blah_.

“No, young man,” he says, trying to be patient, “men should not fight over women because women are free to choose for themselves. I would just like to see a friend. We are friends.”

Or they _were_ friends? He is not too sure: he hasn’t got a single word from Tauriel since she and the dwarf left Esgaroth. She must have been too busy, living her new life, the one she craved so much.

“Good. Because if you tried to fight Kili, Tauriel would kick your ass,” the boy casually informs the Prince. “She shoots like a goddess. I wanna be just like her, except the lack of hair, of course! Also,” he gives Legolas a somewhat dirty look, “I am a _girl_.”

(That awkward moment when you think beards are gender-specific and you turn out to be wrong…)

Legolas mutters something apologetic to him… (no, _her_ ) and walks off, somewhat embarrassed. It’s not like dwarves never make ( _deliberate?)_ mistakes regarding elves’ gender, yet he always thought he’d be better at these things. Come to think of it, he has seen a picture of a female dwarf before, he should have known better…

The dwarven girl just laughs at him.

 

***

 

It is the dwarf who answers the door. He doesn’t look much different from when Legolas saw him in prison (just much cleaner, much neater and no cobwebs in his hair) or on the battlefield (just no blood and looking fairly alive and healthy). The elf notices that he still hasn’t grown a full beard and vaguely wonders if the dwarf actually _shaves_.

Shaving is definitely a small price for keeping Tauriel.

After an awkward exchange of greetings he is invited to the sitting room. “Mind the chandelier,” the host says helpfully. It is no idle warning: the ceilings are barely high enough to let a male elf walk without having to bend slightly.

“Care for some tea? Food? Ale?” the dwarf asks once Legolas has made himself comfortable in a low armchair. “Tauriel is out but she should be back any minute now.”

Ale. Dwarves like it and that tells Legolas everything he needs to know about the drink. Also who drinks alcohol in the middle of the day? What is this man of Tauriel, a drunkard? Does he think Legolas is a drunkard, too? Legolas is a Prince of elves, thank you very much.

“I am alright.”

If mother could see him she would probably be appalled by his manners so Legolas adds a reluctant _thank you_. The dwarf seeks to persuade him no further.

Legolas doesn’t have anything to say – they are not friends, after all – so he studies the surroundings. The room looks surprisingly cozy with is a big fireplace, a large fur rug in front of it, a low table and a good number of seats all around. Tucked into one corner there is a bookshelf stuffed with large manuscripts in leather bindings. Dwarves like to read? How utterly bizarre!

Legolas shifts his gaze, studies the miniature paintings on the mantelpiece and realises that there are quite a few of Tauriel, either with the dwarf or with the dwarf and… errr… more dwarves. There are also a few of late Thorin Oakenshield.

The dwarf leaves and comes back with a large mug.

“Ale?” Legolas inquires.

“Tea!” the host responds, seemingly offended.

Silence regains until a while later Tauriel walks in through the doors, bright and happy as sunshine itself – a sight Legolas is not accustomed to. It only takes her a second to recognize the Prince.

 “Look who is here!” she cries out happily and moves in for a long hug. She is swift in her motion but Legolas’ eyes see everything. The former head of the guards is still tall and slender, still prefers to be dressed in green and brown, but she wears her hair in a different style and there are golden beads in it. Must have been a gift from the dwarf, the elf muses.

“You seem well,” he remarks.

“I _am_ well,” she answers.

Only then Legolas notices that Tauriel did not come alone. An unfamiliar black-haired dwarf clad in a blue dress stands in the doorframe, eyeing the Prince without hesitation. Legolas assumes it must be _the mother_ frequently mentioned back in prison. He tries his best not to stare although it is hard because the woman has a more pronounced beard than the son.

Tauriel introduces them and the Prince learns the dwarrowdam is indeed Tauriel’s mother-in-law (Mother-in-law? That sounds so odd. Who would have thought Tauriel would be married at barely six hundred, let alone to someone of another race, let alone to a dwarf?) and that her name is Dis. Dis, on the other hand, learns that Legolas is the son of Thranduil and this probably doesn’t make her like him any better.

“What brings you here?” Tauriel seeks to clarify. “Did you come to see _us_?”

“I was travelling on some business,” Legolas answers. “But I thought it would be good to see you en route.” He will not admit he got lost. He is perfect and invincible and his orientation skills are not poor, mind you.

Dis inquires if he is travelling with anyone and the Prince truthfully replies he is all by himself. Tauriel seems surprised.

“You are welcome to stay with us,” the dwarf offers.

Legolas decides he can spare a day or two and see how it will unfold.

 

***

 

The dinner is hearty and not bad at all. In fact there is a Mirkwood dish of roasted vegetables under a light dressing. It somewhat puts the Prince at ease because surely Tauriel misses her home, it must be great for her to be able to cook the food she was once used to.

“Nice to see you honouring the cuisine of the Woodlands so well,” Legolas says while serving himself a second helping.

“Kili made it,” she informs casually, cutting off a large chunk of roasted pork belly for herself. “I did the meat.”

The Prince makes an effort not to display his surprise. This family is odd: females have beards, dwarves master elven dishes and Tauriel eats meat like there’s no tomorrow. He wonders silently what else has changed. Probably a lot of things.

“You haven’t sent me a single letter,” he points out.

“This is not true!” she exclaims, frowning. “I wrote to you about once a month since we settled here. That would be ten letters or so. I haven’t got a single reply though.”

“She did write,” the dwarf interjects. “I read the letters to make sure she doesn’t mention any feelings she might have for you.”

Tauriel smacks him on the head.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” the dwarf offers. “You can read my letters.”

Tauriel snorts. “Like you could have kept feelings for anyone else after you’ve met _me_!”

The dwarf winks at her. “Well, I wouldn’t be so sure. Those lads of Rivendell definitely left an impression.”

Dis laughs hard at that.

If _this_ is love, Legolas will happily pass for the rest of his life.

Also, what was that about the _lads_ of Rivendell? Surely the _lads_ of Rivendell (or _anyone_ of Rivendell) could not be after the dwarf? Or did he manage to charm them with his stories of fire moons and shooting stars, too?

Legolas decides it is best not to know.

And it’s Imladris, not Rivendell!

“I received nothing,” he says truthfully.

“Well, that is odd!” Tauriel seems puzzled for a second. “Unless, of course, your father ordered all the mail inspected before it goes to the addressee…”

“That may well be the case,” Legolas agrees. “He is still somewhat upset about you.”

Tauriel stabs a chunk of meat with her knife.

“He wants me to marry,” Legolas confesses. “Before you even ask, Arwen Undomiel is the lucky girl.”

Now Tauriel chokes on her food. “Arwen? Daughter of Elrond?”

“The very same.”

“Well, she is a high elf…” Tauriel reckons. “Your father must love that. And I hear she is quite beautiful and kind.”

Legolas shrugs his shoulders. “And I hear there is a growing affection between her and a mortal man.”

“Way to go!” says the dwarf.

Tauriel chuckles dryly. “Thranduil must be thrilled.”

The Prince shrugs his shoulders again for a lack of better gesture. “He just hopes that if he pretends that this is not happening, it will eventually go away. That or he is just waiting for this mortalto die.”

Tauriel’s husband folds his hands and glares at him. Legolas suddenly realises he has been inappropriate so he quickly apologizes.

“And what of Elrond?” Tauriel asks after the apology is accepted. “Is he taking this any better?”

“Marginally. Apparently he told this mortal he will let him marry his daughter if the mortal becomes King. But it’s not an _outright_ rejection, if this helps.”

Tauriel rolls her eyes. “Mighty Valar, this is like Beren and Luthien all over again!” She does not seem to be pleased at all. “Why can’t elven women decide themselves who they are going to marry?”

“Because at this rate they would all be married outside our race and poor elven men would have no hope.”

Having said that, Legolas widens his eyes in disbelief: he might have just made some semblance of a joke! Certainly, this house is doing strange things to him. Sure enough, no one laughed, but compared to how he normally speaks this was certainly funny.

“You may tease, but there is a bit of a pattern,” the dwarf points out. “Besides ours, I’ve heard of four unions between elves and other races and in all of them it is the wife who is immortal.”

Four is too many, Legolas reckons, but what the heck…

“So there’s Beren and Lutien, Tuor and Idril, Imrazor and Mithrellas,” he counts on his fingers to add visual emphasis. “Who’s the fourth couple? I can’t remember anyone else.”

“It’s more of a rumour I heard, first from Tauriel, then from our burglar, Bilbo Baggins,” Tauriel’s husband admits. “Apparently his ancestor had an elven wife. Not that he knows for sure.”

“An elf and a halfling?” Dis asks. “I didn’t know that.”

Neither did Legolas. Life outside Mirkwood is sure full of surprises. And he is not certain whether it bodes well for him or not.

Guess he will just have to find out.

 

***

 

After the dinner he offers his help with the cleaning but the matron of the house just smiles at him and says they have it covered. And before Legolas has a chance to say anything else, a strange performance (for a lack of better word) unfolds right in front of his eyes.

Tauriel gets up, grabs her plate and sends it flying through the air. For a split second the Prince wonders if, perhaps, dwarves are just too lazy to wash up and sweeping the shards away seems like a preferred option to them. But the plate never hits the wall; instead it is intercepted by Tauriel’s husband who swiftly sends it onwards, through the doorframe and into the kitchen where it is caught and (finally) gently lowered into the sink by his mother. The participants seem to be very adept at the task: the dwarf hasn’t missed a single utensil and even juggles some plates for a while whereas Tauriel manages to kick the bowls into the air with just the right amount of force to avoid breaking them.

The Prince sighs inside. Back at home there would never be any plate throwing. The servants would glide through the vast dining halls, all elegant and stealthy, and carry every item with grace, in a civilized manner befitting an ancient and educated race.

But Tauriel has a certain cheeky smile while she keenly participates in this madness and it makes Legolas wonder if it is actually fun, if one day he might want to try it, too, while Father is not watching.

 

***

 

When the night falls, Legolas and Tauriel go outside and settle on the veranda. The view is not majestic but it isn’t half bad either: Legolas watches the busy street buzzling just outside the gate and the outlines of mountain peaks rising into the sky and highlighted in cold blue (must be the moonlight and must be where the name of the settlement came from) before he finds it in himself to speak.

“I always thought that dwarves liked to live inside the mountains,” he confesses even though he fully expects Tauriel to make fun of him for being so ignorant.

But she doesn’t. “So did I,” she says as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small pipe and begins to stuff it with tobacco. “You know, coming here made me realize just how little we actually know of one another. It’s quite sad, really. Maybe if we all started turning our noses up a little less and listening to each other a little more the world would be a better place.”

The Prince muses on her words, then closes his eyes and remembers.

A little child. Bright auburn eyes. An even brighter smile. Questions blurted out at a rate of thirty per minute. _Legolas, what’s outside the forest? Can we go? Why not? What about next year? Have you seen humans? Talked to them? What about dwarves? Why do we live so long and others don’t? Do orcs feel sad that they are so ugly?_ The child grew up, the eyes darkened, the smile gradually faded but the unanswered questions did not go away. They just got quieter and quieter until Tauriel was asking no one but herself. That dwarf – Kili – must have been the first one to have heard them and to actually answer.

“Father should have made you an ambassador,” says Legolas.

Tauriel chuckles softly.

“Please do not even joke about it. I’m sure he wouldn’t care and would rather forget that I ever existed.”

Perhaps, but the Elvenking _never_ forgets. He simply _cannot_ forget. She would not have known of course (could not have known) but Father still isn’t over her departure. It’s often _Tauriel this_ and _Tauriel that_ and _I gave her all_ and _I hope she hates the dwarves by now because she can never come back…_ Legolas almost feels sorry for Thranduil in these moments but he won’t _actually_ feel sorry for the Elvenking, not unless he says what he really means…

_I hope she hates the dwarves by now because she can never come back… Legolas, when is she going to come back..?_

But it is probably a few centuries too early for _that_.

The elves sit in silence for a while and Legolas watches the night and the lights, listens to the distant music and the unfamiliar words in Khuzdul, breezes in the scents he hasn’t known before, studies the creatures he always though so little of.

He notices that many of the dwarves who pass by actually slow down to smile and wave at Tauriel and she smiles and waves back. The Prince imagines they would even stop and chat to her if he wasn’t around. The village knows the red-haired elf, the village likes her, doesn’t mind her being different.

She is happy here, Legolas realises. Content. It is subtle but he can see it in her eyes, feel it in her soft smiles. Mirkwood might have been lost to Tauriel but the rest of the world welcomes her and gives her a chance.

He and Tauriel never used to talk much, but now he somewhat feels the need to talk. Was it always like that? Did the dwarves distrust her at first? Was her mother-in-law ever rude? Hostile? What does she miss of Mirkwood if she ever misses anything at all? Are there any elves nearby? Will she stay in the Blue Mountains much longer? What would her parents say if they knew of the life she was living?

She satisfies his curiosity as best as she can, but Legolas has too many questions and some of them inevitably remain unanswered.

 

***

 

At night the Prince lies sleepless.

He could blame his restlessness on the bed which is a little short for someone of his height but that would be a lie as big and fat as any troll. Truth is, his thoughts are far away from the warm and cozy house, they are twelve months in the past, in the ruins of Esgaroth and on the battlefields west of the Lonely Mountain...

Legolas was never sure he would find Tauriel in time but he tried, oh, he did! Father was ranting that what Tauriel felt for the dwarf wasn’t real, that it would go away, that an early demise of the said dwarf (or even all dwarves) wasn’t something a decade or two couldn’t fix… But the Prince saw more than the Elvenking ever saw and the Prince wasn’t so convinced.

His mother perished in Gundabad, that much Legolas knew for sure, although Thranduil was never willing to talk about it. There was no grave, no memory. Legolas didn’t want that for Tauriel.

He thought through many scenarios and he sliced orcs one by one. The dwarf would die and Tauriel would die, plain and simple. Or the dwarf would die but Tauriel would live, only to weep her heart out, be consumed by grief and eventually perish of heartbreak. Alternatively she would recover (a semblance of her former self would recover) and would shut herself in Mirkwood. A smile would never again grace her face and the knowledge of the dwarf being lost forever and so soon would eat at her century after century, never subsiding, never going away. What an un-life that would be: no relief, no salvation, no starlight and certainly no walking in it.

Legolas wanted none of that for Tauriel either.

 

***

 

The next day the sun shines brightly and the dwarf suggests they refresh themselves by swimming in a mountain lake. There doesn’t seem to be a better proposition so Legolas accepts and off the three of them go. He even finds himself exchanging a few polite phrases with Tauriel’s husband en route but it still feels weird: they are not rivals and they have never been, despite what the dwarf might have thought, but they aren’t friends either. There is no common ground except that time Thorin’s company was imprisoned in Mirkwood (“How did you like my Father’s cells?”) or the Battle of the Five Armies as it came to be known (“You are really lucky I got there in time to save Tauriel and your sorry dwarven soul”) or the dwarf’s marriage to Legolas’ best friend (“Why haven’t you invited anyone?”) and none of these seem very appropriate. So Tauriel and the chirping of the birds have to fill the silence for most of the relatively short journey.  

The water is somewhat cold but it has never been a problem for the elves and dwarves must be used to it. The dwarf undresses first – simply pulls a loose blue shirt over his head and discards his boots and for a moment Legolas is stunned and not for the reasons Tauriel ever was.

He has never seen a fairly naked dwarf before (although he has heard of the infamous Imladris Fountain Desecration which involved a good number of naked dwarves and he almost wished he hadn’t been made aware of such atrocities) and it is hard not to look and compare. The dwarf is sinewy and muscled in places Legolas is smooth and lean, although the Prince would imagine that they may be fairly equally matched in terms of physical strength (but not the fighting ability, never the fighting ability). This, however, is not the most striking difference. Legolas briefly glances over Tauriel’s husband’s chest and arms and Valar almighty, there’s hair, hair, hair, hair… Legolas is not far away from celebrating a three thousand year anniversary but this is not the sight he ever got accustomed to.

Sure, it is rather sparse but it is still hair…

And the weird thing is – Tauriel. Just. Doesn’t. Seem. To notice. Or care. Or both.

Love makes one blind… And crazy. Legolas jumps into the cold water to get his thoughts in order. Never mind the garments, he brought a fresh set.

He resurfaces and can hear the dwarf asking Tauriel if all male elves swim fully closed but dives in before he can hear the answer. Next moments his companions join him and then Tauriel splashes the dwarf and he splashes back at her and it’s all an undignified pointless tussle from there but they are laughing out loud and Valar almighty, the dwarf does have the most charming smile... Legolas secretly resolves to try to replicate it and see if it works on others.

As they lay on the shore, Tauriel having gone behind the trees to change back into her clothes, it is the dwarf who breaks the silence.

“I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for what you did for me and Tauriel.”

Legolas has worked out some of the tension and is therefore feeling generous.

“If you mean me keeping my Father from doing a dance of joy as you two were leaving then it is really no big deal.”

But the dwarf doesn’t take the joke.

“I mean you saving Tauriel on the battlefield. And saving me as a result, I guess.”

“She is a friend,” Legolas says. “Hence things that matter to her matter to me.”

The dwarf whines. “I was going to thank you, but… We are not _things_!”

“If you don’t like that I could always go back to the old ways and call you a goblin mutant?” the Prince helpfully offers.

His companion snorts. “Then you are a forest fairy. How about a shooting competition with a goblin mutant?”

Very well, an unexpected suggestion but that’s an old and noble tradition and it is certainly entertaining. There’s just one small problem: they are not at war and there is no battle.

“I do not see any orcs,” Legolas points out.

“True that,” the dwarf doesn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest. “But we could use targets, catch some fish, maybe aim at a few birds? There’s a breed that flies high and is very difficult to get.”

The Prince ponders for a while. Perhaps that’s not the proper way to do it but that’s certainly better than either staring awkwardly at each other or purposely (and still awkwardly) not staring at each other.

“You are on, dwarf,” he says as he gets on his feet and reaches for the longbow.

“The name is Kili,” the dwarf reminds him pointedly but there’s no animosity in his voice. “Prepare for inglorious defeat, Prince – I’ve learned a few tricks from your former guard.”

“It is Legolas,” the elf tells him before he can reason whether he actually wants the dwarf to address him by name.

 

***

 

The next few days go by quickly and they turn out to be quite fun (if Legolas ever dares to say so out loud). He talked with Tauriel about the past. They talked about the future. He got to know the dwarf… err… Kili a little. It wasn’t so awkward towards the end. And of course Legolas has once again established his superiority with the bow (not that anyone could have seriously doubted it to begin with) even though the dwa… oops… Kili turned out to be quite decent. Next time Legolas will best him at putting away the dishes, too.

But for now it’s time to move on and find the man called Strider which may prove to be a difficult task. The Prince has already made inquiries in Imladris but all Lord Elrond was able to say is that his ward (the mortal man worthy of Arwen’s immortal affection) has already departed. Never mind, Legolas is not afraid of a challenge and will be able to track him eventually. It’s a shame to leave Tauriel so soon though but the Prince promises himself he will be back as fast as he can.

“I’m glad to have seen your new life,” he says as the two of them stand outside, Legolas ready to depart.

The redhead bites her lips.

“Yes, that new life of mine… Legolas… What would my parents say?” she muses quietly, bringing up the unanswered question from the first night of their reunion.

And he confesses something that deep down he must have known for quite a while but only realized it over the course of the past few days.

“Who knows what they would say, Tauriel? Who knows even what the rest of the elves would say? But I know what your brother would tell you.”

Tauriel’s eyes widen.

“But I… never had a brother?” she offers uncertainly.

“Of course you did.” Legolas ruffles her raid hair in a way he imagines siblings would do before mounting the horse.

His companion of many years is still staring in disbelief when he waves her goodbye and tells her (in that secretive tone they have typically reserved for bitching about Thranduil when they were younger) the words he’s been meaning to say for a while.

“He is happy for you, you know?”

  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s been almost a year since the last update and many of you probably have forgotten about this story. I don’t really have anything to say in my defence. I just… lost interest and magically regained it almost a year later and I even have an idea for a short story where everybody lives and no one dies. But I digress. I do apologize for the long wait and I’m grateful to anyone who read the story regardless of whether they are still sticking around or not.
> 
> Now a couple of points on the story (if anyone cares to know). In my headcanon Tauriel is pretty much like family to Legolas, a little sister perhaps, despite no blood relationship. And I know they I wrote Tranduil out to be an asshole but then I saw BoTFA and he wasn’t so bad in it so my opinion of him has changed. Now in my headcanon he is somewhat a father figure to Tauriel and she is like a young silly rebellious surrogate daughter to him and they are having this estranged relationship because she run off with an unsuitable boy and the Elvenking is deeply offended by it.
> 
> Also, I really enjoyed Legolas and Gimli’s friendly rivalry in LoTR and thought that maybe Legolas just tends to be a bit competitive.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading. Here’s just a couple of things I wanted to clarify.
> 
> I know I said this work is ‘DoS’-compliant (rather than book-compliant) but I’ve decided to rely on the book to fill the gaps where the movie is silent or unclear. In ‘Hobbit’ the dwarves were imprisoned in Mirkwood for quite a while before Bilbo came up with the whole “hide them in the barrels” idea. So I went with that. Besides, I think it would have taken Kili and Tauriel more than one conversation to develop the kind of bond which made Tauriel effectively desert her post and her people and ruin her chances of ever coming back to Mirkwood just to save Kili. I mean, sure, he is a sweet lad but she is throwing her whole established life away to follow him. It’s a fairly big decision to make so I wanted to establish more of a base for that.
> 
> I believe that Beren and Luthien are sweet but in my opinion they would have been something Tauriel can’t quite relate to. I mean, apart from being one of Thranduil’s subjects she seems to be her own boss so I don’t think she’d agree with women being told who they can and who they can’t marry and upon which conditions.
> 
> Naturally you may think differently.


End file.
